


Devil In The Detail

by Changkyunnnie, shadyhon



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Angst, Dark, Demons, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2019-10-29 13:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 50,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17808827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Changkyunnnie/pseuds/Changkyunnnie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadyhon/pseuds/shadyhon
Summary: Minhyuk is an unsuccessful doll maker and artist. He's desperate and makes a deal with the devil, without knowing how much it will cost him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The original idea is from Changkyunnnie and I loved it, so let's see where this is going

“I'm sorry we can't make you an offer today but we wish you all the best.”

 

This sentence became so awful familiar for Minhyuk, that he nearly was waiting for it every time he tried to persuade potential investors or art galleries to finance and exhibit his arts. Minhyuk was a young and ambiguous sculpture and doll maker and he loved to create true-to-life works of art. It was everything for him, his life, his passion, his way to represent pure aesthetics – expect all these people who had the money to invest didn't see it. For them, Minhyuk was just like any other artist who wanted to successful and well-known on the art market.

 

 

_ “There's no life, nothing of value, nothing that speaks to my heart.” _

 

 

_ “Your sculptures are just cold and lifeless.” _

 

 

_ “I don't see it.” _

 

 

_ “Maybe you should start to invest your energy in another specialty.” _

 

 

Many of them had said and Minhyuk had to hold back his tears and thank them for their time, even if he just wanted to scream and tell them to shove their money up their ass – but he was in no position to do that.

 

He was sitting in his shared atelier, on an old leather couch that had more holes than fabric that could actually cover it. The room smelled of thinner, paint and clay. It was a very open space, with a big window wall, that filled the room with the perfect natural light from the north and there were even windows on the ceiling – a blessing for every artist's heart.

 

The guys' name, he was sharing this atelier with, was Shownu and in contrast to him, Shownu had one exhibition after another, a lot of sponsors and he would always find a buyer – and they wouldn't even blink an eye to pay every price. Then, why was he sitting on such a shitty couch again, if Shownu could buy a new one? Minhyuk looked at the big canvases on Shownu's side of the atelier, leaning on the wall, some wrapped in paper, the brushes, the easel and tubes of paint all over the big table. The shelf on the wall was plastered with crafting utensils. Pens, old sketchbooks, scissors, and desk-mannequins. 

 

He stared at the sculptures he had made, and the word  _ worthless  _ screamed through his head. It didn't sound like his voice, though, he still thought they were beautiful, gracefully, flawless. He couldn't figure out why he couldn't convince others of their beauty. Whenever he was preparing sketches for the next piece he was already so excited and couldn't wait to bring it to life – just, there was none. Minhyuk slowly got up from the couch and walked over to his workplace, tracing his fingertips over the sketches on the table, the character studies for the perfect piece of art. Slowly, nearly awestruck, he touched the cold hardened clay of one of his creations, tracing his fingers over the unevenness of the folds, over the facial features. He felt his heart sank deep into his stomach when he looked into the lifeless eyes of the sculpture and leaned his forehead hesitantly against the cold clay.

 

“Why can't you be alive? Show all those people your beauty? I'd give everything.” he whispered and let go. He often thought about stealing art from other artists because some investors seemed pretty okay with such a shady move, just to get what they want. He was ashamed of himself for even thinking about it. Did people even see the value of true beauty anymore? The true idea and the heart of the artist itself in every piece?

 

Shownu would always calm him down, that it would take a while to make a living at the art market, and Minhyuk would smile and focus on his work but if he was really honest he wanted to destroy every of Shownu's paintings because he was so unbelievably jealous. He envied him for his success, for his luck, for the people he met who decided that his paintings were worth a shit ton of money. It wasn't like Shownu would twist himself to impress other people, it was more like his art had the ability to be at the right place at the right time. And he was a really hard worker and full of creativity.

 

And Minhyuk would attend every opening of his exhibitions and would smile and listen to Shownu saying the same thing over and over again. “Soon I'll be in your place, Minhyuk. I believe in you.” In a way, he already had a place at Shownu's collections because sometimes the older male would take photos of him for references and he did a really awestruck painting for his last exhibition showing Minhyuk on his table at the atelier doing sketches. It wasn't the motive itself but the whole composition the light and the soft brown and yellow colors that made this painting so stunning. You could feel the warmth, were curious about what was happening before and what would happen right after that moment in time. What was the boy thinking while he was drawing with that dreamy smile on his lips, while the sun softly kissed his light brown hair?

 

He couldn't offer that feeling to people with his sculptures or the dolls he was making but at least some people were willing to pay for a handmade porcelain doll so he could finance his living. Minhyuk sat down on the stool in front of his table and worked on a commission he had got last week. A soft smile laid on his lips as he caressed his fingers through the silk-like hair of the doll. He'd painted the doll's eyes just yesterday for hours, to give the impression that it actually had a soul and maybe it did because Minhyuk's love for his art would fill it even if no one could see it.

 

He placed the doll aside to work on the dress when something caught his attention. “What...?” Minhyuk leaned closer to the doll as there was a fine crack right in the dolls face, below the right eye and he gasped in frustration and disbelief. Not knowing how this could have happened. He would always be very careful and he just placed it aside not even touching this area.

 

“Please don't do this to me.” Minhyuk sighed in frustration and went to the shelf where he stored his material, searching for his tools to fix it when he felt a cold shiver running down his spine. Startled, he looked around the empty atelier. Nobody was there, just him, the sculptures, paintings and dolls – nothing unusual, just an everyday thing. He shook his head and grabbed the right number for the skin color of the doll before he sat down again. Minhyuk reached for the doll and was just about to start when he noticed that the crack wasn't there anymore.

 

_ Am I losing my mind now? _

 

Minhyuk traced his fingers of the doll's cheek to check the area but it was just smooth and flawless. Was his mind playing tricks on him? He took another closer look, when suddenly the doll's eyes started to move, staring right at him, making him squeak in shock, jumping up from his chair. He felt his heart hammering hard in his chest and swallowed hard to gather some courage, so he could lean closer to his table to take another look at the doll. It looked normal – just like a porcelain doll should look like.

 

“Fuck, I need coffee.” he laughed about himself, while he strolled over to the small kitchen in the far end of the atelier. Minhyuk needed so calm down, ease his mind. Maybe he was on edge because of all this frustration and the pressure that was eating him up inside. Maybe he should actually take a break for a few days, so he could make a fresh start, hopefully turning his life for the better. With a low hum, he filled water into the coffee maker, taking two spoons of coffee powder in and pressed the button. Unlike Shownu Minhyuk really hated granulated coffee, it just tasted disgusting and when he was drinking coffee he wanted to enjoy it.

 

As he filled the cup he had prepared with the dark liquid, he heard a sound coming from the door. Minhyuk immediately turned around, to scan the room again, fixing his eyes on the door. If he remembered correctly Shownu wasn't coming in today, so who could it be? He was still on the edge because of the incident that had happened with the doll, so he grabbed a knife out of the kitchen drawer, facing the door. No, he was definitely not a fighter, more like the kind of guy that would get killed at first in a horror movie.

 

The door swung open and Minhyuk held the knife higher, his legs trembling, as he tried to hide behind one of his sculptures. “I have a knife!” he yelled hoarsely and slowly looked over to the door.

 

“Okay...? What the hell are you doing exactly?” asked the man with the silver-blonde hair, closing the door behind him. It was Wonho. Just Wonho – his older brother. Minhyuk had totally forgotten that he gave him a spare key not too long ago. He definitely needed a break. Wonho was the embodiment of a pure soul, always so caring, so supportive and he would never let Minhyuk down – even when their parents grumbled over Minhyuk's unprofitable art.

 

He worked as a musician and was playing the violin with so much passion it made people cry. Yes, even his brother was successful as an artist, and Minhyuk looked up to him because he deserved it. He knew that Wonho had to practice every day and since he wanted to make their parents proud, he had done so since he was very young. Wonho's success gave Minhyuk something to hold on to, but it was also an excuse for their parents that after all, it was okay that one son wasn't a total disaster. Minhyuk often felt like a shadow. He was loved, that was out of the question, but it was so obvious that Wonho was their favorite son.

 

Minhyuk stepped out behind the sculpture and looked down on the knife in his hand. “I... might be a bit overworked.” What had he intended to do? He had no idea, but with Wonho in a room, everything scary in the world would vanish and he was so thankful for that.

 

“It's the right time to eat then!” Wonho smiled and stepped over to the kitchen, to place the food on the small table there, after he had placed his wet umbrella down beside the door. Minhyuk poured the freshly cooked coffee into another cup and sat down. He looked over to the windows, surprised that thick, dark clouds covered the sky and it was indeed raining. How could he have not noticed? The raindrops pattered heavily against the windows on the ceiling, filling the room with its sound.

 

“I'm going crazy literally. I thought the doll had a crack on its face, but there was none and then it looked like its eyes were moving, looking straight at me.” Minhyuk scoffed and grabbed his chopsticks, mixing the udon inside the plastic bowl.

 

“Ah, don't say anything like that!” Wonho was shivering and rubbed his hands over his arms. He was a picture of a man but sensible, another feature that made him so lovable and charismatic to others. “I really love what you're doing, but I would feel like the sculptures and dolls were staring at me all the time.” He looked around and took a sip of his coffee. All of Minhyuk's sculptures were facing the other side of the atelier so he could just see their backs – and it was for the better.

 

“So, no luck today either?” He asked, looking over to Minhyuk who just shook his head, clearly disappointed in himself. “I'm sorry.”

 

“It's okay. It's not your fault, though. You seem to be the only one that thinks the dolls are actually alive.” Minhyuk grinned and shoved the udon into his mouth, munching it, while he looked over to the doll that still laid on the table. He knew that the dolls, sculptures, and paintings couldn't come to life and there weren't possessed objects like in all those horror movies, but still, weren't there enough people who actually claimed that they'd seen a ghost? And had the position of the figurine in one of Shownu's paintings changed? Why was he even thinking about something like this? He really had serious down to earth problems.

 

“Other people will see it too, they're just blind or unworthy to actually see the beauty of your art.” Wonho said, munching his food and pointing the chopsticks at him while he spoke. It was always very reassuring that at least his brother would never lose his trust in him.

 

After their meal, Wonho cleaned up the kitchen while Minhyuk stepped over to his workplace once again, looking at the doll that still laid there in its original position. No crack on its face nor moving eyes that actually stared at him. He slowly grabbed the doll and placed it back into a box so he could work on it later. That was when he heard a whisper, just a very low whisper that couldn't be heard properly.

 

"Did you say something?" Minhyuk looked over to the kitchen where Wonho should have been - except he wasn't.

"Wonho?" He looked down at the doll in the box and slowly placed it on the desk, walking over to the kitchen. It was then that he noticed that he couldn't hear the raindrops on the windows, even if it was still pouring outside. In fact, he couldn't hear anything, not his steps, nor his breathing. It was like he was standing in a vacuum. Minhyuk reached for his ears in panic and there was that whisper again, louder this time and he moved around, stumbling back in shock as all the sculptures were staring at him - so were the people in Shownu's paintings.

 

 

_ I'm losing my mind! What's going on? _

 

The room around him started spinning and grabbed the knife on the kitchen counter again, holding it in front of his body with shaking hands and this time, he heard the whisper directly beside his ear.

 

 

_ “Call me.” _

 

 

“Minhyuk! Minhyuk put that knife down for god's sake!” It took him a few moments before he realized that it was Wonho who tried to calm him down, he was obviously very worried and Minhyuk soon noticed why. He stood in the middle of the kitchen and held a large kitchen knife in his hand and Minhyuk immediately loosened his grip and let it fall to the floor. The clashing sound ringing in his ears as well as the voice he had heard before. Again, he looked around to make sure he wasn't crazy and everything was in place, no sculptures staring at him, the room wasn't spinning and Wonho stood right there in the flesh.

 

“I... I need a break.” he gasped, filling his lungs with air like he had forgotten to breathe for a moment and Wonho seemed to agree, slowly taking the knife off the ground and placing it inside the drawer so Minhyuk couldn't reach it. Maybe his brother was indeed losing it a bit these days. Was he really just stressed out? Wonho wasn't sure but he could say for sure that his brother was never like that and there was no mental illness running in the family.

 

 “Grab your stuff, this place isn't doing you any good right now.”

 

Maybe Minhyuk should visit their parents or meet some of his friends, everything that would distract him, so he could calm down and relax before he started his everyday fight with the art buying society again. Wonho always tried to be with Minhyuk as much as possible, but of course he couldn't hold his hand every day because of his own tight schedule and days like these, that he was able to eat with him were rare.

 

Minhyuk brushed his hair back with one hand, still confused, unable to grasp what was happening to him. He just pointed a knife at his own brother! He was hearing whispers and seeing things that weren't actually there. He frowned his eyebrows and rubbed over his closed eyelids with his fingers before he grabbed his bag, that laid forgotten on the couch. This time Wonho was close by his side and he was thankful for that. The raindrops still hammered load against the windows at the ceiling and a low growl of a thunderstorm could be heard in the distance. Minhyuk's eyes wandered aimlessly through the atelier and he hushed one again over to his table, closing the box with the doll in it, without taking another look.

 

 

_ Maybe art shouldn't be that alive. _

 

 

Both men left the atelier, leaving it dark and empty – at first glance - unaware of the presence that stepped outside the shadows, eyes glowing in bright orange, an evil grin on its lips. Fingers traced over the sculptures as a bright flash of lightning illuminated the room, giving away the presence' appearance in the form of a black-haired man with sharp features, dressed in a fine black suit.

 

“Well, this is going to be fun.” he grinned even wider, looking over his shoulder, where two figures were waiting impatiently, still hidden in the shadows. With the next loud growl outside, the unknown guests had vanished.

 

Leaving behind the calm before the storm.

   
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since this storyline is growing much more complex than we had thought, we have to warn you about the following content:  
> non-romanticized incest  
> psychological terror  
> mentions of drugs and suicide 
> 
> If you feel uncomfortable in any way, please don't read. We also changed the rating and warnings. Keep in mind that this is still fiction despite describing the ugliness of human nature. We love Minhyuk very much.

Once Minhyuk had closed the door to his room behind him, he collapsed fully clothed onto the bed and for a while gazed emptily up at the ceiling. At first, his head remained filled with thoughts of things he would do now. But then as he went on lying there, he started to wonder about the previous events that had taken place at the atelier earlier. He had never experienced anything like it before and he still wasn't sure if his mind was playing tricks on him or if there were actually supernatural things out there.  
  
  
A frustrated sigh left his lips and he closed his eyes for a moment, but everything that filled his mind was that whisper he had heard. He could still hear it, filling up his mind, paralyzing his whole body as it went louder and louder until Minhyuk ripped his eyes open again, holding his breath for a few moments. There were moving shadows up at the ceiling, coming from the branches of the tree in front of his window. The storm had calmed down no sooner that Minhyuk and Wonho had stepped into their shared apartment. He was always with his brother and he couldn't even imagine that this could change one day. They were both independent, had their own schedules, their own lives, but nevertheless, they were family and at least needed that feeling of coming home.  
  
  
Slowly he exhaled the breath he was holding, moving his fingers and toes, getting aware of the mattress his body was sinking in, aware of every body part. He really tried to relax – but he couldn't. His mind was filled with worries that maybe he was cursed and damned to an unsuccessful life, that he could just watch other people getting what they want even if he was clearly talented and creative. He scanned his eyes through the dark room, his wardrobe right at the end of his bed, the shelves stuffed with books about doll making and sculpturing, drawing materials stored in boxes in various sizes. His desk was placed next to the door, formed in a big L-shape, providing him with enough space to spread all the things he needed – and for anyone else, it looked like a mess. There were sketches, open books, pencils and material samples all over the desk but it was just perfect for the kind of work he did. Everything was in reach and he knew exactly were anything was if he needed it.  
  
  
He rolled over on his right side, so he was facing the door and could look at this particular direction more comfortably. Above his desk hung a large picture frame with a photograph of Wonho and him. It had been taken right after the announcement of Wonho's first solo stage, Minhyuk had wrapped his arms around Wonho's broad shoulders as the older had given him a piggyback, both smiling widely into the camera. It had been a very important moment for his brother, who had played at the orchestra before, but also for the both of them because not soon after they had moved out of their parents' house and together in their apartment in Seoul. That was almost two years ago and Minhyuk's dreams to become an artist still remained unfulfilled and he felt like he was just a guest in his own miserable life.  
  
  
From the first day on, he would try to search for other artists in town, visit exhibitions and art galleries and that was how he had met Shownu and since they got along very well, the older would invite him to his atelier soon after and offer him to share the place with him. Shownu had come to Seoul just half a year earlier than Minhyuk, he had started to work part-time for another artist, so the connections and the success came quite natural with it – so did his own atelier. There was plenty of space, more than Shownu needed on his own, that it wasn't a big deal to split the room into two workspaces.  
  
  
Minhyuk had worked his ass off to build his portfolio, even Shownu was impressed with his work and gave away some of his connections so Minhyuk could introduce himself to them. He couldn't wrap his mind around the reason why every single one of them had turned him down at the end, declare his art as not profitable enough to offer it to a larger audience. It was like he was just unlucky, cursed to watch everyone around him to be successful and he was waiting on the sideline to congratulate every single one of them. He felt so small, grey, unseen like a shadow and he was so sick of it.  
  
  
He looked over to the closed door, a shimmer of light from the hall could be seen and he heard Wonho's footsteps outside, his bare feet on the wooden floor. Minhyuk slowly closed his eyes and imagined Wonho walking outside the hall, in his comfortable sweatpants and a tight white t-shirt showing his defined muscles. His nipples showing through the fabric because they seemed to be hard all the damn time, waiting to be touched, to be sucked on and Minhyuk bit his lower lip just by the thought of it, that went right down in his crotch.

 

Slowly he rolled over on his back again, traced his right hands over his chest, further down his stomach before he opened his jeans. Minhyuk hesitated for a moment, knowing that this was wrong, he shouldn't touch himself thinking about his own brother just one door away from him. It was just the same routine like every single time before he had done this and he simply wasn't willing enough to stop it, never before and not this time either, so he slipped his hand down under the waistband of his shorts, wrapping his fingers around his cock. He leaned his head comfortably back on the pillow and started to stroke himself, thinking about Wonho's broad shoulders, how his back muscles flexed when he was doing his exercises in the living room.  
  
  
He traced over Wonho's silhouette behind his eyes, especially thought about the way his fingers moved when he was playing the violin, so skillful, so weightless, restless, playing the most beautiful melodies anyone could imagine. In his imagination, Minhyuk felt Wonho's hands around his cock, his thumb rubbing over the sensitive tip, how his other hand kneaded his balls. Wonho was kissing his stomach, placing kisses all over his hard cock before he took him into his mouth, his perfect mouth that was just made for this.  
  
  
Minhyuk closed his hand tighter around his cock, moving it faster, while he bit the back of his other hand, to prevent any loud moans coming out of his mouth. Again, he imagined Wonho's tongue on the underside of his cock, so perfectly wet and warm, the way he took him all the way in, so Minhyuk could feel the back of his throat on his tip. Wonho was hollowing his cheeks, sucking him off and Minhyuk stroked himself harder, the pre-cum already all over his hand and his legs trembling in pleasure. When he was close, he turned over on his stomach, moaned Wonho's name hushed into the pillow, while he fucked his hand, grinding his hips until his orgasm washed all over him like a gigantic strong wave, making his body tremble like branches in the wind.  
  
  
A deep sigh left his lips and Minhyuk laid there for a moment, coming down from his high, imagining Wonho kissing him, gently, caressing his cheek with his hands, holding him close in his strong arms after. When he opened his eyes, though, there was just his room, and he became more and more conscious of his body, the hand in his pants full of cum, the fact that he had jerked himself off again thinking about his beloved brother and shame flushed all over him. The reality was hitting him always so hard in the face, that Minhyuk felt even more ashamed of himself and his body went cold in seconds while his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He hissed because of the chill he felt and immediately sat up on his knees, reaching out for a tissue to clean himself up at least a bit before he closed his pants again and got up, throwing the tissue in the trash before he slipped out of his room and right into the bathroom to take a shower.  
  
  
Maybe he was unsuccessful because he was lusting over his own brother instead of a beautiful girl or any other man that wasn't bound to him by blood. After he had thrown his clothes into the laundry, and stepped into the shower, Minhyuk let the warm water running over his naked body. This behavior had already started a long time ago when he was still in junior high school and even while he was dating someone he couldn't stop himself from thinking about his brother. Minhyuk was jealous of Wonho's dates and would even sabotage his relationships, just so the older wouldn't go away and stay at home with him. It was so wrong, he was perfectly aware of that and he would say it to himself repeatedly like a mantra but then again, just thinking about Wonho when he laid alone in his bed, overwhelmed him with desire.  
  
  
He was a prisoner of his own perverted fantasies and Minhyuk wasn't able to break the circle of longing, lust and the shame he felt after. Life rejected him in every way possible. He couldn't be together with the person he loved the most because it was forbidden and Wonho didn't think of him in that way and he surely would be disgusted if he would've known that Minhyuk was thinking of him while he was jerking himself off. Additional to that, he couldn't make it as an artist. _Not just yet_ , he told himself, but maybe deep down he doubted himself, he already quit and just existed without living. His whole presence on earth might have been simply worthless all things considered.  
  
  
Wonho was the better son, nobody had ever recognized him whenever Wonho would play the violin on family celebrations or other occasions. He had tried so many things as a kid, to be rebellious, to be loud, to provoke the appreciation, just to went quiet in the end, accepting his fate as the second born child, a failure. Their parents would always make their plans to fit Wonho's appointments so it was just a common practice that there was simply no room for his needs. They couldn't attend to his school plays, wouldn't see him graduate from junior high nor high school, nor university because Wonho had a performance or an appointment somewhere else.  
  
  
Minhyuk wanted to hate Wonho, for all the good things life had provided him with, but Wonho was just such a pure-hearted soul that he couldn't hate but love him. It was a dangerous love and it obviously had no chance to flourish in any possible way. This love was hopeless, sour and was doing more harm than good. He had tried to get together with someone else a few times, but it had never lasted – also he might've moaned Wonho's name accidentally during sex with another man. With a heavy sigh, Minhyuk reached for the soap and scrubbed his body clean, so he could finally go to bed and forget this awful day.  
  
  
He reached for the towel as he stepped out the shower, rubbing his body dry and wrapped the towel around his hips. With a sigh, he walked over to the mirror that was fogged from the steam, so he rubbed his hand over the cold glass until he could look at himself – even if it wasn't the prettiest view. Minhyuk looked tired, his purple-pink hair stuck wet on his forehead and he brushed it back with his fingers. Why was it so hard to get recognized?  
  
  
As he stared at himself he once again thought about these strange phenomena that had taken place before at the atelier and it made him shiver. The doll's eyes had clearly moved, stared at him like it could watch right through him, right into his soul and then there had been this whisper. It wasn't an individual case for artists to go mad or crazy, there were enough documented cases that mostly ended in suicide – not that Minhyuk wanted to kill himself but sometimes he felt so empty, that nothing seemed capable enough to fill this black hole inside of him, that swallowed him alive.  
  
  
While he stared intensely at his reflection in the mirror he nearly missed that something had changed. _What?_ Minhyuk reached to his cheek, traced his fingertips over the smooth skin, despite his reflection showed his skin cracking, a big ugly scar stirred there, but it wasn't there. It was like the crack the doll had shown just this afternoon and now he was definitely going crazy.  
  
  
_What's wrong with me?_  
  
  
He leaned further to the mirror, touching the cold glass, and his reflection was doing the same, before it started to grin, its eyes changed to a glowing orange color and Minhyuk was paralyzed, his entire existence screamed for him to run away but he couldn't. Cold sweat ran down his spine and his lower lip started to jitter, so did his fingers that still remained on the mirrored glass.

 

_This can't be real._

 

Minhyuk gasped, his eyes wide open, holding his breath before this thing inside the mirror grabbed his hand through it while various scenes started to play inside his head.

   
He saw himself standing in front of Shownu's paintings, destroying them with a painting knife, letting it glide through the canvas while he felt himself overflowing with anger and rage. These feelings were so strong like they'd been waiting there for a long time, now getting released all in one go, that Minhyuk thought the pressure in his chest would break him into thousand little pieces. But it didn't stop there, next he found himself inside his bed, not alone sleeping, no, he was getting fucked by Wonho. The feelings of pleasure and lust immediately mixed themselves with the shame he felt watching this.

 

_No. No. Stop this!_

  
Minhyuk pulled his hand back in panic, screaming and he ran out of the bathroom without another glance at the mirror. Unfortunately, Wonho had heard his screaming and Minhyuk ran right into his arms as he opened the door.

  
“Hey! Calm down. What's going on?” Wonho asked deeply concerned, his hands resting on Minhyuk's bare arms.

  
The younger tried to find his words but the moment he looked at Wonho, really looked him in the eyes, he saw them together, having sex, could feel him deep inside of him, hear his moans, feel his hot kisses burning on his lips, so Minhyuk pushed him back. Under any other circumstances, he would've crawled in his arms, falling asleep next to him, protected. But he couldn't even look at him with this horror inside his head.

  
“I'm fine… Tired. Just tired. Good night!” he immediately grabbed his towel, preventing it from falling down and rushed into his room, leaving Wonho perplexed in the hall. His heart hammered so fast inside Minhyuk's chest he thought it would explode every second. With shaking hands he grabbed some clothes out of his closet, not really paying any attention before he slipped under the covers and rolled himself in like a kimbap roll. Just then he realized how much he shivered and grabbed the covers harder, pulling them closer to his body for protection - except nothing could protect him from _this_.

 

_I'm losing my mind. I'm losing it!_

 

“ _Call me.”_ the voice echoed so loud through his body, shaking it so mercilessly, that he could feel it crawling through his veins like a parasite, paralyzing every muscle until Minhyuk eventually passed out.  
  
  
He was falling, deeper and deeper into the unknown darkness. There was nothing to see, nothing to hold on to. No sound could leave his lips. Was this hell? Was he lost forever? Minhyuk felt the floor under his feet, but everything he could see was darkness, everything he could feel was the shiver on his body and despite everything, he felt like he was being watched. Like someone or something could see right through him and judge him for every sin he had ever committed in his life so far.  
  
  
_Make it stop! Please...  
  
  
_Minhyuk went down on his knees, hold himself up on his arms, staring into the darkness underneath him, as all these pictures started to show up again. He could see himself stealing Shownu's art, destroying it right on his exhibition in front of all those people that had come to see it. Shame crashed down on him, as he became aware of the fact how often he had wanted to do this. He had stood in front of Shownu's paintings with a big brush full of paint before, ready to tint the canvas with it.  
  
  
The scene shifted and Minhyuk saw himself as a young boy, he looked so disappointed, so alone, jealous because he had to watch his parents doing everything possible for Wonho. Time was running by and he grew older, left behind on the spot with all this anger and jealousy, that threatened to eat him alive. How often had he wished his parents were dead? How often had he wanted to smack that fucking smile out of their faces because they didn't even dare to _look_ at him? And the worst part of all this might've been the fact that he wanted to break Wonho's fingers just to take everything from him, make him feel the pain, the loneliness. This bitterness of being worthless. All these thoughts had been long buried in the depth of his subconsciousness. Seeing this really ugly side of himself was hurting him, like thick rose tendrils bore their thorns deep into his flesh, his heart, _his soul_.  
  
  
_Wrath. Greed. Envy  
  
  
_Tears started to run down his cheeks and even as he closed his eyes he couldn't escape those pictures, showing him touching himself, moaning his brother's name, fantasizing of him and how great Wonho would fuck him. He had even watched Wonho a few times having sex with one of his ex-partners and despite the feeling of breaking apart because he wanted to be that person under his brother, he had never looked away. There were dozens of sketches of Wonho hidden inside his drawer, photographs of him, that clearly crossed a line.  
  
  
_Lust.  
  
  
_Minhyuk wrapped his arms around his body, trying to protect himself from these feelings of shame, inferiority, of the sickness of his own mind he knew he could never escape. He pressed his eyelids together, so hard it hurt. Clawing his fingers so hard into the flesh of his torso, so hard, it felt like he would rip himself into shreds.  
  
  
_Help me! Make it stop!_  
  
  
“Show yourself!” Minhyuk screamed in a hoarse voice, pressing the words out of his lungs, that it felt like he would combust every second.  
  
  
\---

A sheer endless, desolate desert was followed by huge, black rocks, leading down into a world that was dominated by misery, full of sinners and torturers. No sunlight would ever reach the prison of hell, where damned souls were cursed to live their greatest nightmares over and over again, every single day. Time passed by so much slower down here, making the agony even more painful, unbearable, without a single drop of hope. Even the bravest souls would break apart, their screams echoing through the circles of hell, although not reaching the icy, cold bottom of it, where the devil himself throned in satisfaction over his personal heaven.  
  
  
The throne room was large and spacious, the floor covered with white marmoreal tiles, the white walls hovering up to all sides so high to the ceiling, that was covered with a painting of the apocalypse itself, framed with the most beautiful reliefs and ornaments, not even heaven could provide. The black-haired man that had visited the atelier sat on the throne manufactured of skulls and bones, polished so clean he could see himself in it. His fingers lazily caressed through the light-brown hair of another man, kneeling beside him, his hands placed on his legs and his cheek resting comfortably on it. The impression, that he might've been his guard dog, was true.  
  
  
“He's so weak.” he grinned, satisfied with the pleasure of driving Minhyuk's poor soul to madness, tickling all these abominable sins out from the darkest corners of his mind, making him face it.  
  
  
“Why do you take such great interest in his soul, in particular, Kihyun?” another voice, coming from the right corner of the throne room, asked and Kihyun looked over to the tall demon, wearing a white suit, perfectly fitting his slender body, stepping out of the shadows.  
  
  
“It's not _his_ soul I desire, Hyungwon, but he makes it so easy and I feel his soul screaming for mercy.”  
  
  
“So, if he's just a punching ball I suspect he's an unprotected game then?” Hyungwon stepped closer to the throne, his blue eyes sparkling like sapphires in the midnight sun, his expression could be described as disinterested, but since he was asking Kihyun indirectly to have his way with Minhyuk, Hyungwon's deep desire to hunt and torture swung by in his voice.  
  
  
“Well,” Kihyun stopped the movement of his hand, looking down on his dog named Changkyun, who looked always so innocent despite his bloodthirsty manners. “As soon as he signed his contract he's all yours.” With that Kihyun had vanished, leaving Changkyun and Hyungwon behind. Changkyun nearly crashed down on the floor and looked over to Hyungwon with pouty lips.

  
“Fuck off. I won't rub your belly.” Hyungwon hissed and turned on his heels to leave the throne room. He couldn't wait for Kihyun to return. It'd been a while since he had had a free hand on torturing a soul and since this Minhyuk guy seemed to be really fucked up, he wouldn't resist much.

  
\---

**  
** When Minhyuk opened his eyes again it wasn't dark anymore. His lower lip was trembling, his cheeks still wet from the tears he had shed before and he was so anxious what was coming next that he lifted his head in a slow hesitant manner. He sniffed a few times, still breathing uneven and stressed. The first thing he noticed right next to him was a leg made out of plastic and he traced his wet eyes over it, over the abdomen, the torso, arms, shoulders and the head. It was a white mannequin, standing there lifeless, quiet.  
  
  
Everything he wanted was to wake up, but he couldn't. It felt like something kept him right here like he was a prisoner in his own mind. Minhyuk took a deep breath, holding it, while he looked through the room, that seemed to have no visible walls. It was just a white room, with cold light coming from nowhere because there was no ceiling either. This room, though, was full of mannequins. White, lifeless and Minhyuk slowly got on his feet, his legs shaking so hard he could barely stand. He sniffed again, left one arm wrapped around his torso and dried his tears with the back of his other hand.  
  
  
Footsteps. He clearly heard footsteps but they seemed to come from every possible direction and Minhyuk started to walk through the labyrinth of mannequins, unsure where to go, unsure where to focus his attention, but he couldn't just stand still in place.  
  
  
_“I know you would call me.”_ the voice said and this time, it wasn't a whisper, but still he couldn't see anyone.  
  
  
“Who are you? What is this?!” Minhyuk wanted to shout, but his voice was barely a hoarse rasping sound. He moved on, looking over his shoulder, in the endless direction to the left, to the right and in front of him. _Nothing.  
_  
  
_“I have many names, old names, names, only God knows.”  
  
  
_“Are... are you an angel?” Minhyuk gasped and stopped his steps, remaining in one spot as the room started to spin like it wanted Minhyuk to set his focus on something else, something in particular – or better _someone_. Just a few meters away from him stood a black-haired man, dressed in a black suit and his eyes glowed as the purest amber Minhyuk had ever seen.  
  
  
“I once was. Why is this always the first question you humans ask? _Am I in heaven? Am I going to hell?_ ” Kihyun huffed, shaking his head a few times, the grin never leaving his lips as he started to walk around Minhyuk like a predator on its prey. As Minhyuk was about to speak Kihyun snipped his fingers to prevent him from speaking, enjoying the panic in his eyes. Only his footsteps echoed through the room, while he spoke.  
  
  
“You might know me under the names Lucifer, Satan, Devil, but I'm not the subject here Lee Minhyuk. Your soul is so filthy, it's nearly disgusting. You might think you deserve a much better life, don't you? But deep down, you already know that you're just a sinner, rebarbative, a pervert like anyone else. You're not special. You're jealous, filled with wrath, greed, lusting over your own brother, who is so pure and nearly innocent.” Kihyun now stood right behind Minhyuk. He was a bit smaller, but not less scary and Minhyuk was too afraid to move around to face him.  
  
  
“I can give you everything you desire in your lifetime, just for the price of your rotten soul, enslaved and tortured for eternity.” Just the moment Minhyuk blinked, Kihyun stood right in front of him and he couldn't escape this situation, nor his piercing gaze and he felt like he was drawn into a state of trance just looking into his eyes.  
  
  
“You said you'd do everything so your art would finally be recognized. This is your greatest desire, your soul is screaming it right into my face, so don't bother.” Kihyun laughed because Minhyuk couldn't speak anyway.  
  
  
He snipped his fingers again and Minhyuk stumbled a few steps back and he couldn't even begin to describe how he felt right in this moment. It was one thing to see all those hidden desires inside himself, those ugly pictures of his human nature, but this man in front of him, touched right the core of his entire being and everything he eventually was able to feel was powerlessness. A state were he felt everything and nothing at the same time.  
  
  
“This is absurd...” Minhyuk said in a shaking voice, while his back met one of the mannequins behind him, but before he could turn around to see it fall, he saw that he stood against a wall. Confused he realized that he was standing at a gallery, people gathering around to observe various sculptures, precious dolls and sketches on the wall. These were his sketches, which meant...  
  
  
_“Thank you all for coming tonight. I'm so happy to welcome you to my first exhibition. It's been a hard few years, but it's always worth it at the end.”  
_  
  
That was him. Minhyuk could see himself standing in front of all those people, representing his art and every single one of them looked at him very fondly. Nobody was judging him with this dismissive expression and as he continued looking through the rows and rows of people, he saw his parents, Wonho and Shownu, a proud smile on their faces and Minhyuk gasped because he wanted all that. All this attention, the smiles, the questions about his work. Minhyuk wanted to be the center of attention, leaving his place as a bystander. Before he was able to take a closer look he found himself standing in his atelier, with the devil right on the opposite side of the table, smiling at him, knowingly. Minhyuk wouldn't decline his offer. Raindrops splattered against the windows and the room was barely lit, only filled with the light of the moon, that made Kihyun's appearance even more intimidating.  
  
  
“Your soul, for all the success you ever wanted. For the ability to create the perfect masterpiece everyone will be in awe for.” Kihyun placed a thick black book on the table, holding the contract and Minhyuk stared at the pages, the line where he had to sign. Was it really that easy? Was this, in fact, just a really wild dream and he was going to wake up the next morning to laugh about it? Was he really willing to give everything, his soul, his being, for the world to see how worthy he was? And how could he have never noticed that there were supernatural things out there and the devil really existed?  
  
  
“What if I don't sign this?” Minhyuk asked, still unsure, soul-searching for the right decision.  
  
  
“Your life will continue as it was. You'll continue to be that shadow everyone sees in you. Maybe you're going to take a move on your brother, losing him too. You'll become more and more desperate, searching for a high in your life, maybe taking drugs and die or you'll end your miserable life bloody.” Kihyun traced his fingers over the pages of the book, tipping his index finger on the dotted line.  
  
  
“This allows you a life of success before you die.”  
  
  
It's what he had thought, that nothing was going to change and nobody would ever see him, nobody would see the value of his work, _his_ value. He couldn't live like that. He wasn't willing to end like one of those unsuccessful artists, working a shitty job, thinking about their crashed dreams from time to time. Minhyuk leaned over the book to read what was written on the pages, just to determine: He couldn't read and understand a single word that was written on it. It was clearly written in roman letters and could have been latin.  
  
  
“What is this? I can't read it.” Minhyuk looked up, right into Kihyun's gold-glowing eyes.  
  
  
“It's latin, backward. I must apologize, our translator got lost in translation, but you can trust me. All you have to do is sign with your blood.” He looked nearly fondly at Minhyuk like he was truly sorry, but since he was the devil he could bend the truth to his advantage whenever it was needed.  
  
  
“Everything is wrong with that sentence.” Minhyuk shot back but went quiet soon after, staring at the dotted line. This could change his life. Maybe this was just a wild dream and nothing would change at all after he wakes up, but at least he wanted to take the chance.  
  
  
_I would do everything.  
  
  
_And with that, Minhyuk reached over for a scalpel, unplugging the cap, just to cut his finger with the razor-sharp blade and sign the contract with his blood.  
  
  
“You won't regret it.” Kihyun said amusement in his voice as he vanished, leaving behind the darkness, filled with the soft sound of raindrops.  
  
  
  
_What have I done?_  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are always welcome! ❤️
> 
> Twitter:   
> @crimson_chou  
> @trashstax


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the price to pay for what you really want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the devil was literally sitting on my shoulders while I was writing this and I never had the feeling that the chapter would come to an end at all lol I spent a lot of time researching for musicians and references I could use and I'm so thankful for my little devil Lica for supporting this madness uwu 
> 
> this chapter focuses more on kiho just in case anyone is reading this comment at all :P

 

Kihyun had returned to his kingdom of hell, satisfaction clearly written all over his face, as he placed Minhyuk's contract inside a shelf of his library, filled with hundreds, thousands, millions of contracts. He was unable to understand why his father, God, had kicked him out of heaven for these weak creatures called humans. They were filthy, full of sins and no matter how much they'd fail a little prayer to heaven seemed to be all that's needed for forgiveness.

 

No matter how many times Kihyun tried to displease his father by making shady deals with the humankind, fulfilling their deepest, darkest desires in exchange for torturing their poor souls in hell for eternity, there'd be no reaction. And that was exactly the point that made him even angrier because he was screaming for his attention, destroying his work over and over again but no matter what, there'd be radio silence. He was just left to destroy, so he had created his own kingdom, his own kind. Demons, torturers, embodiments of sins, princes of hell and yet nothing seemed to fill up the betrayal he felt deep down that he got cast out of heaven.

 

He felt a warm embrace from behind and closed his eyes for a few seconds before he turned around to face Changkyun, looking at him with this soft puppy eyes. Kihyun traced his fingertips over his jaw before he was grabbing it, licking over Changkyun's lips, enjoying the immediate response of him opening his mouth for him to kiss him harshly. Changkyun was always so needy for his attention and no matter how mercilessly he would treat him, he would stay by his side like the loyal guard dog he was. With a tight grip in Changkyun's hair, Kihyun pulled his head back to face him, looking at his red kissed lips and the pleasure in his eyes when he was treated like this.

 

“We're going on a little trip to earth and I'll allow you to hunt my sweet puppy. How does that sound hm?” Kihyun traced his hot breath over Changkyun's lips, biting it, while his other hand traced down his back, grabbing his ass to pull him even closer. When Kihyun let Changkyun on the loose he really didn't care about innocent souls at all because his sweet little pet would rip them apart in pure bloodthirst and since God didn't care, Kihyun didn't either.

 

Changkyun gasped and nuzzled his body closer on Kihyun's, longing for every single touch he was giving him. “Fantastic.” he moaned as Kihyun bit his lower lip and traced his hand from his ass to his crotch, rubbing him through his tight leather pants.

 

“You can do with Minhyuk what you want, but don't you dare to mess up with my business.” Kihyun said to Hyungwon who was standing in the door at the other side of the halls of the library. They were looking at each other, while Kihyun's hand was already inside of Changkyun's pants, making his legs tremble.

 

“I would never.” Hyungwon rolling his eyes and vanished just one moment later, not willing to get involved in that scene in front of him.

 

\---

 

When Minhyuk opened his eyes the next day, he felt quite disoriented. His vision was blurry, and he had to blink a few times until he could see everything clearly. Since he didn't close his curtains the night before the sun was shining straight into his face, and he tried to bury it in the pillow. He felt exhausted like he hadn't slept in ages and then there was this crazy dream he had, about him selling his own soul to the devil.

 

The chirping sound of the birds outside was filling the room, also the crashing sound of kitchen utensils being moved in the kitchen. What time was it again? It must've been around 8 o'clock for Wonho to prepare his breakfast and heading out to rehearsal later. Minhyuk just couldn't motivate himself to get up just now. Slowly but steady he remembered his shameful behavior from the night before. That he had yet again jerked himself off thinking about his brother and that he couldn't even look at him right after...

 

He frowned his eyebrows as he thought about this sheer endless spiral of horror that had taken place. The moving eyes of the dolls, his mirrored self grabbing for his hand and this voice, that had engraved its words in his bones. He saw the mannequins, himself at his first exhibition, the contract – and he felt those piercing amber eyes resting on him. While he stared into his room without any focus, in particular, he felt a sting on his index finger of his right hand and brought his hand up, holding it in front of his face, just to see that there was a big red cut. The skin around the cut was covered in dried blood and as he slowly sat up on his knees, he found his sheets full of blood too.

 

_This wasn't a dream?_

 

Minhyuk began to dawn that this hadn't been a weird dream at all, that he had made a deal with the devil. He sat there for a moment, staring at his hand in disbelief because he couldn't grasp the meaning behind all this because this would mean there were supernatural things out there and no one was really paying attention to it. Were people selling their souls all the time to get what they really wanted and what was the price they had to pay in the end?

 

But if the devil was real and not just a myth or a fairytale, then what about angels and God? If there was, in fact, a God, then shouldn't he protect his creations? Shouldn't he send an angel to protect him from the devil? Shouldn't he prevent bad things from happening? So many people were suffering on a daily basis, dying, killing each other over money and possessions. Were they just looking and waiting to make a move, like this world, the universe, was just a big chess game and all creations were just exchangeable figurines? But then again, who decided which soul, which _life_ was worth enough for saving and which one was left to suffer?

 

Minhyuk had never thought of what would happen to him in the afterlife. Eventually, he was thinking once you're dead it's just over, there'd be darkness and the life you knew would vanish. Maybe you would be reborn into another life, not knowing what had happened before, not knowing what was going to happen after like it was a never-ending circle of life and death and everything you'd do in those years you're conscious of was, in fact, worthless anyway. There were so many different religions out there in the world. People _believing_ in something bigger than themselves. People believing that there was a paradise waiting for them, that a savior would come for them or that their souls would get punished if they would act out, not following the word of God, losing their path of belief.

 

The sun would rise and set every single day, with and without him and Minhyuk felt so small and pathetic all of a sudden just for the thought that he wanted the be something special. That he thought success would make him _someone._ That he could take something with him after he died. He thought about his family and friends mourning over him before they'd eventually move on with their lives, this everlasting circle. In the end, he was just dust in the wind, someone who used to think, to speak, to feel and create. _Someone_. Just an insignificant particle in the eye of the universe.

 

It was too much for Minhyuk to even grasp the meaning of his existence, and he thought it wouldn't even make a difference if he lived or died at this particular moment in time. He slowly turned his head over to the picture of him and Wonho that hung over his desk. At least he should enjoy the beauty in his small, inconsequential life as long as it lasted, shouldn't he? Maybe it was for the better. His brother didn't deserve someone like him, lingering in his shadow, lusting over him like a pervert. Wishing for him to fail on the inside while he was supporting him on the outside.

 

Losing. He felt like he had already lost everything he was, everything he would ever be, as he had signed that contract. He had sold this invisible part of himself that made him a person and not just a functioning body. This part gave his life meaning. And even though it didn't look like anything had changed at all and it was just another sunny day after a heavy rain, Minhyuk felt deep down, that _something_ was slipping through his fingers. Something he needed without knowing what it was. And maybe this nameless _thing_ was his soul. The thinking of being conscious of the events he would face after he died made him even more anxious. He was going to face torture for success, but it was too late to turn it back, and he didn't even know what he'd signed up for.

 

_This is messed up._

 

There was a knock at the door that shook him out of his thoughts, followed by Wonho's voice. “Minnie? Are you awake? Breakfast is ready.”

 

Minhyuk looked once again at the photo of Wonho and him before he looked over to the door. “I'll be there in a minute.” he eventually replied and slowly slipped out of his bed. He turned around to inspect the dried blood on the sheets and decided to change them later, throwing the blanket over it for now. Before he could face his brother, Minhyuk slipped inside the bathroom to clean his hand up and as he looked at himself at the mirror he was nearly waiting for something to happen. But nothing. It was just his reflection staring back at him. There was no crack on his face, no extraordinary movements inside the mirror, no hands that were reaching out for him.

 

He frowned his eyebrows and pushed his bangs back before he washed his face and walked inside the kitchen to sit down on the table across from Wonho, who smiled at him.

 

“Are you feeling better today? I was really worried about you yesterday. You were acting so strange, I've never seen you like that.”

 

“I,” Minhyuk began, not knowing what to say. Should he tell him the surreal truth that the devil had stopped by to trick his mind, torturing him with his own failures before Minhyuk eventually gave in and signed a contract? He truly doubted Wonho would buy any of this crap and would worry about his sanity. But it wasn't like Minhyuk wasn't worried about his sanity too. He didn't even know what was going to happen. What could he possibly create that was so different from anything else before, so people would see its true beauty? Shouldn't his head be overflowing with ideas already?

 

“I was just really exhausted. Maybe I can come with you to rehearsal, clearing my head a little.” He could do sketches during Wonho's rehearsal, and he would at least stay away from his atelier for a while until he figured out what he was going to do now.

 

“Sure, that'd be nice!” Wonho smiled widely and stuffed a piece of toast into his mouth. “It'll help you to see living human beings instead of your dolls once in a while. No offense, your work is great but seriously you need to go out more, Minnie.” The older nodded while he munched his food and Minhyuk couldn't agree more. He wasn't seeing any other people on a regular basis despite his brother and Shownu. The art buyers and gallery owners would change, the faces on the streets were meaningless to him. Minhyuk hadn't a lot of friends because he was so stressed out with his art that he would mostly live in front of his desk.

 

Of course, he was longing for physical attention, for sexual distraction that would clear his head at least for a while – especially one that didn't leave him behind with this bitter taste after. But he couldn't relax when he was with someone else because he'd always think about Wonho and the sexual arousal would end in shame over and over again – with or without a third party involved. Minhyuk tried to ignore the thoughts that Wonho might be seeing someone or at least had fun from time to time. He couldn't handle it, so he wasn't asking for it.

 

“I know, that's why I'm going with you.” Minhyuk huffed and smiled before he sipped on his cup of coffee. When he was looking at Wonho, he was always wondering how they even could be brothers and now, that the possibility was on the table, that the devil and God existed he was questioning himself even more. Was this some kind of a biblical joke? If Wonho was the loved son, the glory of creation, that would make Minhyuk to the foul part, the failure, the son who wanted to kill Wonho's bright, shining light that warmed everyone around him. At least, Minhyuk couldn't deny that he had thought about it and thinking about it now, looking at his brother made him feel ashamed once again.

 

Did Wonho know? The older wasn't dumb, and he wasn't blind either, so he might have. They were brothers, they were so close to each other, that it would be hard sometimes to keep a secret. But Minhyuk tried to keep his affection for Wonho under control or at least hidden from his eyes. He couldn't lose him, his anchor, his rock.

 

After breakfast, Minhyuk was taking a shower and got dressed, stuffing his sketchbooks into his backpack. He was looking forward to seeing his brother playing the violin. It wasn't like Wonho wasn't playing at home all the time, but seeing him inside the studio or on stage had such a strong and magical energy, no one could ever describe with words. The sound of his violin made you dream, made your mind flow, let you forget about anything else and just live in this particular moment.

 

Wonho wasn't made to support the orchestra with his skills, he was made for the orchestra to support him, to make him shine like the brightest star. And that was exactly what he did every time he was performing the songs he had composed himself. Obviously, he had the ability to reach out for something inside other people with his music and Minhyuk would definitely say he was able to touch their soul. It wasn't this cold, harsh grab, that didn't let you breathe anymore. It was like a warm embrace, a softly, caring kiss, that made you feel safe, protected.

 

They drove to the theater in Wonho's car and the blonde wouldn't stop talking about one of his favorite musicians he really wanted to meet some day. Minhyuk had no idea who he was talking about since Wonho had so many favorite artists, violinists from around the world he admired with all his heart, and Minhyuk was sure he'd meet them, all of them because Wonho would get everything he ever wanted in his life.

 

As they reached their destination and walked along the long corridors, the sound of a violin could be heard in the distance. They both followed the music to one of the big rehearsal rooms, nearly 150 seats were provided there for the musicians. The ceiling was covered in broadband acoustic absorption fiber wool, the walls coating made out of wooden lath and plaster and the floor made out of linoleum and parquet, additionally to the trapezoidal shape, it guaranteed a perfectly acoustic balance. The wood was light and inviting – a very comfortable place to work in as Minhyuk thought. Right in the middle, in front of the rows of chairs, stood a black grand piano and right next to it stood a young male with black hair, playing his violin so skillfully and energetic that it left its listeners in awe.

 

Although, there was one thing about this man that left Minhyuk amazed. He could only see his side profile but at that moment when the young musician ended his play and lowered his violin to look at them, it was at that moment, that Minhyuk's blood froze in his veins.

 

_This can't be._

 

It was _him_. The same person he had seen in his dreams. Without the amber glowing eyes and dressed in more casual clothing this time, but it sure was the _devil_ standing right in front of them. Minhyuk couldn't move, couldn't breathe. What was going on? Why was he here?

 

The devil looked straight into Minhyuk's eyes, smiling at him knowingly, a spark in his eyes before he brought his attention to Wonho next to him. He could see his soul glowing inside his chest, so bright, so warm and full of light. Something he had never seen before but was sure to destroy, to claim, to dim its glow with all the filth of sin. Kihyun was pretty sure that Wonho was something special in all the creations his father had made. He had no idea what his plan was for him, but the joke was clearly on God creating one of the most miserable, filthy souls right next to such a shining, bright one. Like the characters out of the German fairy tale _Mother Hulda_ of the Brothers Grimm – one girl showered with gold while the other girl got a kettle of pitch spilled all over her.

 

“Are you a new musician here? I've never seen you before.” Wonho started to talk, smiling at Kihyun and walked into the rehearsal room to introduce himself to him. “I'm Wonho and this is my brother Minhyuk.” The older made a gesture with his hand towards Minhyuk as he stood in front of Kihyun.

 

Minhyuk wanted to hold him back, but he couldn't move. Fear was holding him back, was creeping in every corner of his body. Looking in Kihyun's eyes was so intimidating that he had no idea why Wonho wasn't affected at all. What was happening? Shouldn't his life turn for the better instead of for the worse? Was he going to watch over him in person? But why would he present himself as a violinist instead of anyone else? Except, he was coming for Wonho too. Minhyuk gasped and grabbed the strap of his bag harder.

 

“Stay away from him! What are you doing here?” Minhyuk asked huskily, nearly hysterical because this wasn't happening. He had to protect his brother! He mustn't make the same mistake as Minhyuk, although, Wonho already had everything he desired. He was successful and loved by their parents, by his fans, so he wouldn't need to make a deal with the devil himself.

 

Kihyun wasn't able to answer Wonho as Minhyuk marched in on them, looking at Kihyun with so much fear and anger that it was clearly amusing. His hazel brown eyes started to glow in bright orange color as he placed his Stradivari back into the carrying case. “Listen to me boy.” Kihyun started, his cold voice made Minhyuk shiver, and he realized that everything else around them was frozen. Time had come to a standstill and Wonho looked like a come to life mannequin, looking at him with questioning eyes.

 

He heard Kihyun coming closer, reaching for his nape to pull him down to him because he clearly wouldn't stand on his toes for a tiny, inconsequential creature like Minhyuk. “Your greatest desire is success and that's what you'll get. It's so much greater than the love for your brother and you're wishing for him to fail every single time. You can't fool me.” His voice was just a low vibration on his ear but Minhyuk felt it everywhere. “You'll go now and you'll accept everything I'm going to do with him. That I am the one he's going to fuck and not you. Do you understand me?” Kihyun pulled Minhyuk back to look at him with a satisfied smile.

 

“He'd never...” Minhyuk gasped, but he just earned a sneer from the devil in front of him.

 

“Oh, he will and you can do nothing about it. You'll forget about your romantic feelings for him soon because it's not what you truly desire. It's what you signed up for.”

 

“You fooled me.” Minhyuk said with a shaky voice, helpless, not able to think what he should do, how to fix this situation.

 

“I'm slightly offended by your ingratitude but believe me when I say that I will give you so much more attention than those white-winged abominations from heaven. Ask yourself why none of them were coming to prevent this from happening in the first place. But wait, you already did.” Kihyun smiled and licked his lips slowly and let go of Minhyuk, who still stood on the very same spot, too confused to move a muscle.“Not a single one of them cares. Not about you, about people starving, killing each other. But life goes on and on and souls are praised and tortured. A single life is worth nothing.” Kihyun looked over to Wonho and just feeling the warmth of his soul, made him shiver in excitement.

 

“What do you want with Wonho then...?” Minhyuk asked defeated, lowering his head, so he wouldn't look at his brother. This was just all too much to grasp, too complex for a human brain to understand. But deep down it dawned Minhyuk that he hadn't sold himself to the devil but his brother and much more, he slowly became aware of the fact that he was going to turn a blind eye on that. He would turn his back on Wonho and was going to walk out on him, leaving him to whatever Kihyun was going to do with him. Minhyuk felt so nauseous all of a sudden, feeling so disgusted by himself and at the same time there was another feeling, something he wouldn't have expected at this moment. A feeling that came closer and closer to him, forcing him to feel it in all its glory.

 

_Peace_

 

The thought of losing his brother, selling him out to the devil himself filled him with overwhelmed peace, it was nearly comforting. Was this a desire that had always been inside of him? Minhyuk wanted to feel ashamed but had to determine that he just wasn't feeling any regret at all. He raised his head to look at Kihyun and over to his brother, still frozen in time and Minhyuk realized that he didn't need an answer from Kihyun regarding his brother’s well being, instead, he turned around to walk out the door.

 

“You don't want to know?” Kihyun grinned amusedly but not surprised at all.

 

“No.”

 

Minhyuk never looked back after he had closed the door behind him and despite the lack of emotions, he felt like something else was calling for him. It wasn't Kihyun's whisper, nor specific words or a voice at all – no – it was more like an impulse he had to follow. And following this impulse redundantized everything else around him as he took the next train to the other side of the city to the atelier.

 

\---

 

Just in the blink of an eye time started to run smoothly again like nothing had ever happened and so Wonho smiled right at Kihyun, a bit confused that Minhyuk wasn't there anymore. “Oh, where did he go?” a bewildered tone in his voice, so innocent that Kihyun bit his lower lip to prevent himself from getting too excited.

 

“He had to go. He excused himself just a moment ago.” Softly Kihyun touched Wonho's forearm to assure him that everything was okay, that he wasn't a delicate mouse inside a cage with a giant, hungry snake. “My name is Kihyun by the way.”

 

“Ah, it's so nice to meet you, Kihyun.” Wonho said, still a bit confused that he couldn't remember Minhyuk excusing himself. Hadn't he come with him to distract himself from the stagnation of his work and the periodic denial of the art buying community? His brother was really acting strange like he couldn't even recognize him anymore. He would text him later to check if he was okay, and working on his performance in the meantime. Wonho had to admit that Kihyun was a really good-looking young man, with his pale skin, sharp features and his black hair that perfectly framed his face.

 

“Ah, they must've forgotten to tell you right? We're going to perform together on the upcoming show. I just arrived here in Seoul today, you know? It was kinda a last minute decision.” Kihyun stepped over to the grand piano to grab a flyer announcing their upcoming performance and handed it over to Wonho, who studied it in clear amazement. Had he forgotten about this? His manager hadn't told him anything about it, but there were a fixed date and Kihyun's name on the flyer. “I'm so sorry. I wasn't aware of that. No one had told me that we are going to work together.” he said with an apologetic smile. He felt bad that he hadn't prepared anything because he obviously didn't know at all.

 

“I told my manager to make sure everything was in order.” Kihyun sighed. “It's not a big of a deal, really, we can work out the pieces for the show now and check in with the orchestra and the conductor later.” If there was one thing Kihyun was really good at, then it would definitely be manipulating people. It hadn't been a big deal for him to deform the reality like he needed it to be and now that he was sure he could touch Wonho without hurting himself, there was clearly no need for him to hold back – but Kihyun also liked to play with his prey a little longer.

 

Why wasn't his father protecting a soul like Wonho's from him? It didn't matter, though, it showed how less he cared for his stupid creations of living chess figurines.

 

“Yeah, sure, let's do it.” Wonho smiled and sat down on the bench in front of the grand piano after he placed his violin case next to it. “What were you playing before? It sounded much like Niccolò Paganini. Am I right?”

 

“You really have excellent knowledge, Wonho.” Kihyun said in a charming tone and sat down next to him. Paganini was the most celebrated violinist of his time and clearly left his mark on the pillars of modern violin technique. Due to his extraordinary skills, people started to believe that he had made a deal with the devil – although it had actually been his mother, who had sold Kihyun the soul of her baby boy so he would become one of the greatest virtuoso in history. As a matter of fact, Paganini had a genetic disorder that allowed him to play three octaves in one hand span, but this was just a minor detail.  
  


“Caprice No.13,” Kihyun said. “Also called _Devil's Chuckle._ ” He always thought it was a very fitting title for this solo violin piece, that started out with scale-like double-stopped passages and moderate speed. It consisted of high-speed runs and position shifting, that required a lot of hand flexibility. Paganini was also called the devil's violinist, and they weren't wrong, he was playing his violin in hell for eternity.

 

“We could actually play one of his pieces if you like or would you prefer a piece of Tartini maybe?” Kihyun reached for his bag to grab a folder full of notes from various artists, so they could both look over it. Both, Paganini and Tartini required a lot of flexibility and their pieces were probably beyond the human imagination. “How about this?” Kihyun placed the notes of the Violin Sonata in G minor by Giuseppe Tartini on the keyboard in front of them. He clearly didn't choose this piece by chance, was it also called _The Devil's Trill Sonata._ He had once played it himself for Tartini, who had sold him his soul in 1713. Tartini hadn't been able to reproduce the sonata in its original version, too afraid it would have destroyed his instrument due to its beauty and greatness.

 

“Oh, I've never tried to play this one. It has so many difficult passages.” Wonho took the pages to study them more intensely. Kihyun moved closer to Wonho, so he was able to look over his shoulder – and to whisper into his ear, while he rested his hand on his upper arm. “You're such an excellent violinist. I'm sure both of us can handle such a _hard_ piece very easily.”

 

Wonho gasped at Kihyun's words and their sudden closeness, but he wasn't able to do anything against it. There was something about Kihyun that moved him in a trance, a state of mind where everything seemed so easy and natural like nothing was impossible anymore. He'd be always very focused on his work, would practice for hours to improve his skills, wouldn't rest until he had mastered a very difficult passage, so he hadn't had much time to go on dates or actually be with someone. Wonho turned his gaze away from the notes to look at Kihyun's deep, brown eyes. So deep, he felt himself falling into it, unable to resist the sudden urge that overcame him. The urge to kiss Kihyun deeply, passionately, pulling him closer and commit his entire being to him.

 

“What is it you desire?” Kihyun whispered against Wonho's lips, already overwhelmed by the feeling of being so close to him. His soul shined so bright and just looking at it through Wonho's eyes, made him feel so lightheaded, so high like he was the forbidden fruit out of Eden itself.

 

Wonho didn't know what got into him, what was going on with him that let him act the way he did but the only thing he could think about was Kihyun. How good his hot breath felt so close on his lips, how beautiful he was and how much he wanted to fuck him in this particular moment. The pages slipped out of his hands, unnoticed, as he placed his hands on Kihyun's warm cheeks to pull him into a longing and passionate kiss like this was all that was needed to tell him, what he desired.

 

\---

 

Minhyuk could only imagine what the devil was doing with his brother at the moment, but he felt no need to find out what it was. He was sitting on his desk inside the atelier, working on the doll that nearly scared him to death the day before. But there was nothing out of the ordinary except its indescribable beauty. The flawless porcelain taint of its face, the long, silky black hair, underlined with a traditional Korean robe he just fixed on its body. He was concentrated, eager to work without questioning the task or what would be the perfect piece of art he would create.

 

During the vision Kihyun had shown him, he had seen a lot of great sculptures and dolls but one of them had been still covered under a white sheet. Hidden from clear sight. Would it be something from such utter beauty that he wouldn't be able to survive? Wrapping his head around this matter just made his head ache.

 

He was so focused on the doll, that he hadn't noticed that he wasn't alone anymore. Sapphire blue eyes were fixed on the back of his head, long, slender fingers were reaching out for him. The moment he noticed the sweet scent of peaches, Minhyuk saw the doll turning to ashed right under his fingers, making him want to scream when no tone was leaving his lips. He felt the hard grip of someone holding his head as his eyes rolled back, making him pass out.

 

_Not again._

 

As he opened his eyes again he found himself in an empty hallway he wasn't familiar with. The walls were painted in a cold, clinical white, while a dark purple carpet was stretching out under his feet into sheer endless space. The hall was dimly lit and when he looked at the ceiling he realized that there was none. Thick dark clouds were hanging in the sky. He became aware that it was raining into the hallway, but not a single drop was hitting him. Nothing was behind him and nothing in front of him. Minhyuk became strangely familiar with these kinds of visions, although he didn't understand why he had one when Kihyun wasn't even near him.

 

A voice was calling his name. Had he heard this voice before? He thought it sounded like a stranger but also like warm, thick honey. Minhyuk felt like he was dreaming but also like he was wide awake at the same time as he started to walk down the hallway. The only sound that could be heard was the pouring rain surrounding him. He didn't know what was waiting for him at the end of that sheer endless hallway, but he couldn't just stand there. There was something, something calling for him, lulling him in and no sooner than later he found himself in front of a large, antique picture frame made of pure gold. It seemed to hang on an invisible wall because he could see the cloudy sky right behind it.

 

Minhyuk paid closer attention to the picture in the frame itself, showing a black-haired man from such utter beauty that he was awestruck. Eyes - so blue that he thought he was drowning in the ocean - were looking at him. It was the same feeling he had with Kihyun in his dream, the feeling that these eyes were looking right through him, into his soul, seeing him for the person he really was, with all his failures and rotten sins. The man in the picture was so incredibly handsome, magnificent, that Minhyuk remained speechless, frozen in place and time where he was standing. He wanted to touch this remarkable face, those lips, looking like they'd been sculpted by God himself.

 

The longer he was staring in those eyes, the more he felt he was losing himself, that he wasn't worthy to look at such great beauty as the filthy person he was. He felt the need to scratch his eyeballs out of his head, apologizing for stepping into the glory of such a godlike creature. At the same time, he felt like he wanted to be possessed by the beauty of this man in the painting, that he needed to show his beauty to the world, even if it was just a small part of it. The picture was burning in his eyes and Minhyuk could feel how it burned itself into his memory, into his being, like this was what he was going to live and die for.

 

 _“This art will lead you to Pride.”_ A voice echoing through his head told him, leaving him unable to process its meaning as he came back to his senses, sitting in front of his desk inside the atelier as nothing had changed. Although, the doll he had been working on was finished and perfectly placed inside its box.

 

The sweet scent of peaches never left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find us on twitter:
> 
> @trashstax
> 
> @crimson_chou


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small flickering light in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're sorry that this update took such a long time uwu so get your holy water ready and enjoy! 
> 
> well even though this fic doesn't seem to have so many readers, we're thankful for every single one of you!

  
A sheer ocean of sketchbooks and crumpled papers flooded Minhyuk’s desk as he desperately tried to catch the beauty of the man he had seen in his vision. Nothing, not one single stroke seemed to be worthy enough and the only feeling that was filling Minhyuk up full to the brim was frustration. He had worked on the sketches for days now, but if he was honest with himself he didn’t even know how long he had been sitting here already, working on it.

  
  
The sun was rising and the sun was going down every single day and it was like time was frozen in place, meaningless. And with time, everything that was happening outside the atelier became meaningless too, strangely nobody seemed to miss him either since there were no missed calls or text messages on his phone - not even his brother was asking for him. If Minhyuk hadn’t felt like a shadow so far he definitely was now.

 

His fingers were shaking, hurting from holding the pencil for too long, but he couldn’t stop. There was a cup of coffee at the far end of the table he had made and couldn’t even remember if it had been today or yesterday or maybe the day before, nevertheless it was long forgotten, untouched and cold. He had eaten next to nothing the whole time but there was no feeling of hunger either. Minhyuk’s hair was messy and a shower was probably in order too. A part of him really had thought that once he had signed this contract everything would fall in place for him. Everything would become _easy_ and would appear in clear sight but still, he was losing more and more. He lost his beloved brother to the devil and he lost the feeling to feel bad about it. It was like this feeling had become no more than a simple taste on the tip of his tongue. He knew how it used to feel, how it should feel but there was nothing but a black shadow left behind - a memory, a reminder of something that used to be.

 

Minhyuk still felt calm thinking about the way he had left that day, leaving Wonho behind to whatever destiny was waiting for him. Nothing of Minhyuk’s deal with the devil had been his fault and still, he had dragged him right into it and walked away. He was aware of what he did but somehow he didn’t care because he also knew that he had already done unforgivable things. The way he was lusting over his own brother for years, unable to move on into a healthy relationship, unable to grant Wonho his own happiness always by his side and forever a _nobody_. His fate was sealed anyway since he signed that contract, sold his soul for a glimpse of happiness in his own life. Maybe it wasn’t love and maybe human beings should wish for only that, _love_ , finding people to love, to be happy and not to waste time with things that would remain forever unreachable.

 

But in a way, he had sold his soul, his being, for love - for the love he felt for his work, for his art. This was _him_ and maybe there was nobody loving him and he was going to die like this but his art would remain and people would remember him, knowing his name and finally _see_ the beauty and value of his heart. Minhyuk had his eyes fixed on the empty page of his sketchbook in front of him. His shoulders felt tense and his body was begging him for a break but he couldn’t stop. There was still something that dragged him forward and with every sketch, with every failure, he made the feeling that he was coming closer increased - closer to see that ethereal face of the man materializing in front of him he had seen in his vision.

  
  
He was wondering who this person was he had seen in the picture and why he had to be his greatest creation. Of course, it was told that the devil had as many faces as he had names, but it seemed that he preferred the form of a young man, a violinist with sharp features and piercing eyes. Many people had tried to describe the devil with words, with symbols like snakes, pentagrams or the sabbatic goat and of course, had tried to give him a face in paintings and sculptures. Was the devil blessing the ones who send his prayers to him, begging for the world to go down in flames? Satanism had its believers like any other religion on this earth after all. Minhyuk had never thought about it but since the devil was technically just an archangel ranked him still lower than God and therefore left him with far less power. Although, if God heard all the prayers, if God loved all of his creations, why would he let them suffer and why would he watch his own son filling human hearts with anger and sin?  
  
  


The man he had seen in the picture of his vision, although, had had soft features and such unbelievably plush lips that he was asking himself how it might feel to get kissed by them. Would it be a kiss of death, so indescribable and out of this world that he was going to break under it? His eyes were so blue, shining like sapphires reflecting the moonlight on a clear summer night and he had felt like he was drowning in the deepest ocean. This wasn’t the devil but someone else, Minhyuk was sure of it - despite the vision had been different from the ones that had led him to sign the contract. Every time he was thinking about him he felt in awe, overwhelmed by his beauty that he wanted to cry. Would Minhyuk ever see him in person as he did with the devil? And what did it mean that this would lead him to Pride?

 

“Who are you?” he raised the question in a low and barely audible voice, since his throat felt sore from remaining silent for so long, still staring at the sketchbook right in front of him, the sharpened tip of the pencil hovering over the paper, ready for Minhyuk’s hand to guide it. Nothing was happening as long as he was just staring at the blank page in front of him waiting for a miracle to happen. No miracle was happening for days, though, so Minhyuk closed his eyelids with a sigh. He thought about the time he was still a child, using his colored pencils to fill out his coloring books full of mandalas and fantasy figures. There had been no expectation, no pressure - just him sitting on the table on their veranda, enjoying the warm summer breeze, the cracking of the ice inside his glass of orange juice, the sound of the violin Wonho was playing inside the living room.

 

_No pressure._

  
  
He imagined himself as a child, looking up to the painting of this man with the ocean blue eyes, fascinated by his perfect face, reaching out to touch it with his small hands, fearless. Minhyuk felt his hand moving on the paper, drawing stroke after stroke while he still looked at the flawless portrait of the man that was burned inside his mind until he could see him standing right in front of him, kneeling down so he would be able to touch his face properly. There was no guarantee that he was going to look at the perfect sketch when he opened his eyes but Minhyuk had to try and maybe the small part of purity inside his soul, of his inner child, could comprehend the beauty, his rotten soul couldn’t.  
  
  


He had done this very often as a child, trying to touch the image inside his mind to visualize it with pencil and paper. It wasn't like it was hard for him to draw - not at all - but he loved to feel the material of the clay under his fingers, working out the features of his creations with his tools, diving down into his own world where nothing could hurt him, where everything was possible. _Everything_.

  
  
While Minhyuk was exploring his mind he became unaware that he wasn’t alone anymore. Hyungwon was standing next to him, looking around at his endless unsuccessful tries to catch the beauty of his being. If he couldn't even draw him on a piece of paper, how should he be able to sculpt his greatest masterpiece after his image? Minhyuk wasn’t lacking talent - even Hyungwon could see that - but under all his willpower and passion was still resting a rotten soul, soaked black with sin, hopelessly lost for redemption.

 

Maybe Hyungwon had something to do with the fact that Minhyuk hadn’t been able to successfully draw him yet as it was very contributing to his entertainment to see him struggling day by day. His skin looked oily, small stubbles could be seen under his chin and yet to Hyungwon’s disappointment - Minhyuk’s spirit remained intact - and Hyungwon’s ethereal beauty right next to Minhyuk’s shabby appearance gave the impression of beauty and the beast.

  
  
“Humans are the weakest creation of all, huh.” Hyungwon said to himself, although not audible for Minhyuk as he watched the sketch on the paper growing more and more. He traced his eyes over his long fingers - tormented and sore - the way he was holding the pencil, making his strokes so much more consciously and precisely than before even though his eyes were closed.

  
  
But it still wasn’t leading to a desirable outcome and Minhyuk’s knowledge of his appearance wasn’t enough to fulfill Hyungwon’s high demands so he leaned closer over him, tracing his fingertips featherly over the back of Minhyuk’s hand. He was closing his own fingers around Minhyuk’s to guide it over the paper. It wasn’t like Minhyuk could actually feel his touch - only if Hyungwon would allow him to but he didn’t - so the young artist was left in the illusion that everything he was doing was happening because of his own free will.

 

Hyungwon could see his image coming to life on the paper and a satisfied smile appeared on his lips. He loved to look at himself in the mirror and he loved to see himself in general - on pictures, drawings, in the form of sculptures and soon in form of a doll or a sculpture when Minhyuk was finished. As a prince of hell and one of the deadly sins, he was better known under the name _Pride_. Kihyun had decided to forego of the highest rank of the deadly sins and had created Hyungwon instead, giving him the liberty to do whatever he desired as long as he wouldn’t interfere with his own interests. Unlike Changkyun, who was only created for Kihyun’s entertainment and pleasure, Hyungwon had his own free will and was nearly as powerful as the devil himself but he wasn’t suicidal to fight him and kick him off the throne - not yet at least.

 

As much as Minhyuk’s soul was forsaken to receive punishment in hell for eternity, Hyungwon thought that he still was different from other souls. While the soul of his brother Wonho was shining brighter than a Christmas Tree on fire, Minhyuk’s soul was glowing in brilliant black. He was losing his ability to feel compassion for his fellow human beings bit by bit, nourishing the emptiness of his soul more and more as a part of his contract and yet he could see this innocent child inside of Minhyuk, _believing_. Minhyuk was still fighting for himself, for his beliefs and wasn’t taking it for granted even though his signature on the contract allowed him free access to create his ultimate masterpiece - if Hyungwon let him of course.

 

Hyungwon’s hand still remained on Minhyuk’s, feeling his warm skin under his fingertips even after they had finished the sketch. The paper now showed a detailed drawing of his face in a frontal view and next to it a blueprint for the other body parts of the doll Minhyuk was going to create. Everything was nice and neat labeled and ready for the next step.

  
  
He turned his head to look at Minhyuk’s face showing a small smile on his lips, scanning his features with his deep blue eyes as he sank down his subconsciousness to stand truthfully in front of this little boy inside of Minhyuk’s mind instead of the imagination his mind had created before. The demon looked down on the child, there was no fear inside his eyes but bravery, acceptance that he was going to die for his believes - a sight he had seen so many times before over the centuries. People ready to fight for what they believed in, ready to die for an invisible higher power, fearless of the unknown that would embrace them once they’d close their eyes forever.

 

“Don’t you fear death?” Hyungwon asked and to his surprise, the boy started to smile and shook his head.

 

“I’ve never belonged here.”

 

“Where do you belong then?”

 

“Home.”

 

This truly wasn’t an answer Hyungwon had expected to hear from the boy and somehow it made Minhyuk so much more interesting than before. Most people would lose their inner child, their hopes and dreams, their true self but the one of Minhyuk was pretty much alive. He wasn’t ordinary and since he’d never seen a soul like his, Hyungwon couldn’t say for sure where he really belonged. Where would his home be if not on earth with his family? But he wasn’t asking any further since there was no need for him to get involved any closer with Minhyuk, with his already sealed destiny. Although, as Hyungwon saw the boy vanishing he withdrew himself from Minhyuk’s subconscious mind to send him _home_ \- at least to the one he was already used to. So when Minhyuk opened his eyes, he found himself sitting on the bathroom floor inside his shared apartment with his brother. His sketchbook and the pencil he had been drawing with, laid right next to him.

 

Minhyuk should have been shocked about this event, about the fact that he had closed his eyes, sitting inside the atelier with a blank page in front of him and was now back in his apartment, in his bathroom. He wasn’t asking any questions anymore and reached out for his sketchbook instead and a relieved smile formed on his lips as he saw the man’s flawless face sketched on the paper. His fingers slowly caressed over the paper, careful not to blur the graphite of the pencil. It didn’t do approximately justice to his magnificent beauty but Minhyuk wasn’t even sure if an insignificant human being could even handle the truth. To face the real form of a demon, an angel - the real form of the devil or God themselves. But the sketch he saw, especially the detailed blueprint, was enough for him to get started with his work on his masterpiece itself. He slowly got up from the cold bathroom floor, finally feeling how much his body was aching. His limbs were screaming in pain and Minhyuk felt like he was going to fall asleep right next to the toilet.

 

A scrutinizing look in the mirror revealed him the urgency of a shower and a good night's sleep. He wasn’t even asking how long he hadn’t been home or what had happened with his brother during that time. Everything he wanted was to sleep, to remain and live inside his own world, far away from anyone else. Minhyuk closed the sketchbook and placed it on a cupboard next to the door before he got rid of his clothing to step under the shower. A sigh of relief came over his lips as the hot water started to massage his drained body. He couldn’t remember the conversation he had with the demon inside his mind but Minhyuk could feel that something was different, like there was an unseen trace left behind. And that scent. That sweet scent of peaches that surrounded him since that day, that he could smell even now as the scent of shampoo and soap filled the bathroom.

 

After his shower, Minhyuk reached out for the razor to shave. He couldn’t stand it so look unkempt even if he was going to bed in a bit. Again sleep was trickling its fine sand over him, so he grabbed his sketchbook and went to his room. The lights in the apartment were off and the only sounds that could be heard were the moans out of Wonho’s room. Minhyuk remained standing in the hall, feeling himself breaking inside a bit more but walked away, reminding himself that this wasn’t his life anymore. In vain, he was waiting for the shame to wash over him, for the jealousy - for the anger. Maybe even for a natural reaction of his body but there was nothing. There was nothing he could do and nobody was even aware of the fact that he would be gone soon.

  
  
_I need to sleep._

 

With movements that remembered more of a zombie, Minhyuk walked over to his room and locked the door. He sank down on his bed and slipped naked under the covers, that was still sprinkled with the blood from the night he had signed his contract with the devil - signed up for his own death sentence. So many reminders of supernatural events that had taken place in the last few days, but it didn’t matter. Nothing did, expect...

 

“ _You_.” Minhyuk whispered and laid his hand on the sketchbook he had placed next to his pillow before he closed his heavy eyelids. Sleep pulled him off into his dreamland immediately unaware that he was being watched by the presence he was longing for.

 

Hyungwon was standing near the window, his eyes shimmering in the moonlight as he stepped over to the sleeping man, who was revealing his handsome features to him. He had wanted to have his way with Minhyuk, playing his little tricks on him to make him fail over and over again but for some reason, he couldn’t find the usual pleasure that should have come with it hand in hand. Minhyuk was breaking under the hand of modern society for years and he could see him breaking inside every day a little bit more and the influence of supernatural power had simply increased this process. He was only human and yet so different from anyone else that Hyungwon felt some kind of pity for him, nearly wanted to have mercy and put him out of his misery.

 

But of course, he couldn’t do that as long as Minhyuk was bound to the contract by blood and therefore he had to wait for his time coming. Hyungwon didn’t know why he felt drawn to Minhyuk as he sat down on the edge of the bed to caress his long fingers through his, still slightly damp, hair. He looked peaceful when he was sleeping, probably dreaming of the life he was seeking to live, in a world where he was different and loved. And his dreams of hope, of a better world, was all he had where his prospects far away from happiness and warmth but full of punishment and pain.

 

Hyungwon couldn’t understand that there was still hope inside of Minhyuk, like a burning candle, a small glimmer of light in the darkness. There was no chance that his life was getting any better, that he would belong anywhere even though people would know his name and his work as an artist, it’d be an empty shell of happiness. Was a short moment of success worth the punishment that followed? He let his fingers trace over Minhyuk’s cheek, caressed over it with his thumb as he looked up to the full moon that had risen high up the deep blue sky before he vanished - leaving behind a comforting warmth on Minhyuk’s cheek and a small mark in form of a peach blossom behind his ear.

  
\---

  
It was morning the next time Minhyuk opened his eyes and he tried to cover his face with his blanket, pulling it over his head to let out a sound of disapproval. He laid there for a few moments, trying to sort his thoughts and getting aware of his body before he pushed the blanket back and sat up. Minhyuk slowly traced his hand over his cheek and stared at the empty place on the edge of the bed.

 

_Was someone here?_

 

Of course, he could ask himself if he was losing his mind - but he had already crossed that line, obviously. His cheek felt warm like someone had touched him there, providing him comfort even if his situation was hopeless. Had Wonho come to see him? Minhyuk didn’t know what to anticipate when he stepped outside of his room. His brother hadn’t contacted him for days as if he wouldn’t even exist but he seemed very occupied with pleasuring the devil in every way possible. And what was it about Kihyun? Was he still there? Should he sit with them to eat breakfast?

 

“Oh God, no.” Minhyuk murmured to himself. This could only be a joke, a very bad one though - a very grotesque version of breakfast with Tiffany in the new edition _breakfast with the devil_. No Minhyuk wasn’t going to sit down with the devil to have a nice chit chat about life or about his brother. He didn’t know what to expect of Wonho. Was he still the man he used to know? Was he just a marionette or even himself anymore? He didn’t know, and he felt like he should feel bad about it or apologize to him for dragging him into all this mess just because he couldn’t be as successful as Wonho. Just because he was a failure in the eye of the universe and damned to live a life in misery - down on earth, followed by a life in hell, far away from the light. The closer he wanted to get to the light, the further away he went as if he simply wasn’t meant to be.

  
  
Minhyuk shook his head to get his thoughts straight. He had to go to work that was for sure. Minhyuk looked at the sketchbook that still laid next to his pillow and got up from his bed to take fresh clothes on. His back and neck were still aching and short scrutiny at his hands assured him that his fingers were still sore and in the need of rest, but there was no time for rest so he walked over to his desk and pulled Kinesio Tape out of the top drawer to tape his fingers before he took a pill to ease his pain at least a little.

 

He searched for a bigger bag inside his closet and packed fresh clothing inside because the hand of time wasn’t on his side and he wouldn’t want to waste it with coming back to the apartment every single time. Somehow he had managed to get here while he had been working on his drawing, but he couldn’t be sure that this higher power or whatever it was, would send him back home every time he was in the need of a shower and fresh clothing. Minhyuk reached out for his sketchbook, pressed it against his chest like a treasure and closed his eyes for a second before he put it inside the bag with his clothing. As he reached out for the doorknob, his eyes fell on the photography of him and Wonho and there clearly was something different, so he let go of the door to step closer to the picture.

 

Yes, it was him. Something about him was different in the photo and he stumbled a few steps back as he realized what it was - he was fading. The colors of him had become pale and he had the apprehension that soon he’d be gone, wiped out of the mind and hearts of the people he loved. In a panic, he scanned his room just to see that some of his personal belongings had vanished too, gone, forgotten forever. Minhyuk could feel tears filling his eyes, his increasing breathing forcing his heart to beat heavy inside his chest. Was his mind playing tricks on him again? Was the devil torturing him again? Showing him a life where he didn’t even exist?

 

_This isn’t happening._

 

He rubbed his eyes, following the urge to get out of here, just to see that the door was opened, offering him the view of the - sadly familiar - figure in form of the devil himself. Kihyun was standing there with a satisfied smile, provocatively dressed in one of Wonho’s dress shirts and black jeans - Minhyuk could easily recognize because the shirt hung way too loosely around Kihyun’s petite frame and of course because he knew his brother's clothing very well.

 

“Oh, look if this isn’t the prodigal son.” Kihyun’s eyes were again glowing in a pure amber color, lurking at him like he was a sheep far away from its flock - just defenseless prey in the eye of a predator. But there was a change in his expression and the grin on his lips became exchanged to a disgusted grimace, that Minhyuk couldn’t quite interpret. Although, before he could even react properly Kihyun was already gone, leaving him behind dumbfounded. Minhyuk had no idea of the devil’s business or the hierarchy in hell but there surely must’ve been something that had required his full attention much more than his insignificant soul.

 

_What is going on?_

 

“You’re at home! I didn’t even hear you.” Wonho said, stepping over to him with one of his heart-warming smiles to welcome him with a warm embrace, leaving Minhyuk even more confused.

  
  
"Yeah… I just met your new boyfriend." he murmured against Wonho's neck and looked at him after Wonho had loosened his arms around him. If he hadn't known any better he would definitely commit himself to the psychiatric ward because he had just called the devil Wonho’s _boyfriend_ \- and his brother seemed to have no clue of everything he was going through.

  
  
"Kihyunnie? Did he already leave?" he said with a disappointed sigh and Minhyuk confirmed it with a simple nod - it wasn’t like he was very interested in Wonho’s new relationship with the devil or whatever it was but his brother seemed at least healthy and unharmed.

  
  
"Guess we'll meet at the orchestra then. Alright, at least stay for breakfast, you look thin." Minhyuk couldn't quite understand under what kind of spell Kihyun had put his brother, but it was as if for Wonho, the time of his absence hadn't been that big of a deal. He appeared normal though. They talked over breakfast like any other day, except for the fact that Wonho couldn’t stop talking about Kihyun, the way he was playing the violin, the way he was smiling at him, about his fingers when he played the piano and of course how it felt to kiss him. He didn’t know what was scarier that he couldn’t care less or that he was searching desperately for that feeling inside of him. The feeling that he cared for Wonho, that he felt sorry for him getting involved with the devil and not even knowing it and all because of him.

 

Somehow he found it pathetic how naive Wonho could be, but then again Minhyuk had no clue how his brother acted around Kihyun and maybe he didn’t even know him anymore and Wonho didn’t know him. With every minute that went by they would drift further apart, the crater, that had started as a small crack, would separate them, without a single chance to reach for each other's hand ever again. The toast in his mouth tasted boring, like it lacked any kind of flavor, although it was spread with chocolate and it dawned Minhyuk that everything around him would fade away piece by piece, turning to ash until nothing was left.

 

“I love you.” Minhyuk said all of a sudden and smiled at his brother as he placed a hand on his forearm. He could feel his lips shaking and turned away just a moment later to get up, reaching for his bag and was already on his way into the hall to take his shoes on.

 

“Min, is everything alright?” Wonho asked in confusion, got up from the kitchen table to follow him. Of course, they’d say each other how much they meant to each other but Minhyuk still seemed on the edge and wasn’t resting as he had promised.

 

“I have to go. Take care.” Before Wonho even had a chance to hold him back, Minhyuk stepped out of the apartment to walk to the stop nearby to take the next tram to the atelier.

 

\---

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Kihyun sounded enraged as he crossed the library of his kingdom to push Hyungwon brutally against one of the shelves, the books thudding hard on the floor were now scattered all over it. Hyungwon didn’t seem very surprised by Kihyun’s outburst nor was there any sign of fear in his eyes.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said in response and was pressed harder against the shelf so he could feel the wood hurting his flesh - and still, he remained unimpressed just looked calmly at the devil in front of him, with his glowing eyes and very strong wish to snap his neck.

 

“Don’t you dare to talk to me like that! I can destroy you as fast as I created you, you little piece of shit.” Kihyun growled and pressed his hand around Hyungwon’s neck.

 

“Why does this abomination of a human stink of you? It is not your business to show any sort of kindness but encouraging his death wish. If you can’t do your job properly then you’re off the case and I’ll lock you away so you can rot down here without ever seeing a fresh soul ever again. Are we clear?” Hyungwon felt Kihyun’s hand burning around his neck, his skin and flesh peeling off under his hard grip and still, his eyes showed no signs of fear nor did he blink even once in the eye of his creator.

 

“Get back in line!” Kihyun pulled him down on his neck to look him in the eyes, his words barely audible but not less threatening before he let go of him and vanished again in the blink of an eye. Hyungwon took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he placed a hand around his neck to heal his wounds. Maybe he was just a prince of hell but the fact that he was the second strongest being in hell after the devil made even his creator a bit nervous sometimes - especially because he knew that he couldn’t just destroy Hyungwon with the simple snapping of his fingers like the lower-ranked demons in his kingdom. Kihyun hated to see his disobedience, to see how unpredictable and uncontrollable he was and it filled him with the feeling of fear, never knowing if and when Hyungwon was going to make a move to push him off the throne.

 

Kihyun might’ve been the devil, a fallen archangel and once the most loved and precious son in his father's glory, but he was just too aware that even in a perfect peaceful scenery could linger a venomous snake - probably because he had been that snake that had once seduced Eve to sin in the garden of Eden.

 

Hyungwon straightened his posture after he had healed his wounds and placed the books back into the shelves with a single gesture, except the one that was holding Minhyuk’s contract. The thing about Kihyun was that he acted impulsively, still hoping that God, his beloved father would recognize him, and at the moment he was so focused on disgracing Wonho’s shining soul that he wasn’t aware of the dangerous glimmer inside Minhyuk’s black, rotten one.

 

As opposed to Kihyun, Hyungwon hadn’t had any daddy issues towards him and was doing things only in his own interest. But there was another matter about him that Kihyun feared: Hyungwon had never shown him his true power, kept it hidden from him even under the greatest torture. He had enraged the devil uncountable times over the centuries but hadn’t fought back even once. Not when Kihyun had burned the flesh off his bones or locked him away in a cage in the darkest corner of hell. And like Hyungwon’s blue eyes, he was like the deep blue sea, invincible and dangerous.

 

He had let Minhyuk feel his touch the night before and he was sure that it was still tingling on his skin and of course, Kihyun had sensed it - the touch of demon could leave different marks behind. Hyungwon could decide what kind of mark he was leaving behind, just his sweet scent of peaches, a sensation on the body or soul or nothing at all. But since he had seen that little boy inside Minhyuk he took some special interest in him that was far away from the nature of punishment and pleasure. _Fascination_.

  
  
So he didn't leave his mark, his unique signature, behind by chance for Kihyun to find it. His scent didn't just surround Minhyuk, no, the moment he had allowed him to actually feel it, his scent got stuck on him - a clear sign for every higher ranked demon that Hyungwon had claimed him and no other demon was allowed to harm him. Not even the devil himself which clearly violated his demands on not interfering with his business even though it didn't change the nature of the contract at all.

  
  
Hyungwon was too aware of Kihyun's shady contracts no human being was able to read, but in the end, would sign, no matter how much it would cost them. He wasn't just taking their souls, Kihyun made sure their way to success was shorter but not less unpleasant than before so he mostly tricked his contractors into a shortcut to death and eternal punishment. He promised them a life of success but of course reality far away from that.  Sure, he was playing his mind games with innocent souls too - he was a demon and a prince of hell after all - and he probably wouldn't stop on playing them on Minhyuk too but he would most likely take his time to watch and observe his soul during the process.

  
  
It had been a while since a soul had grabbed his attention like this and it also had taken him a few days to discover that shine and that boy inside Minhyuk's soul - therefore it didn't come by surprise that Kihyun hadn't seen it at first. Since demons were predators they didn't share, especially souls like those of the two brothers and as a predator, Hyungwon was waiting patiently for Kihyun to make a mistake and turning his back on Minhyuk might've been one of his biggest mistakes right after his biblical betrayal.   
  
  
  
Whispers had already spread amongst the demons that these two brothers might’ve been incarnations of Cain and Abel, the first two sons of Adam and Eve - with the difference that Minhyuk was killing himself instead of getting killed by his beloved brother and the devil was fucking the life out of the latter. But according to Genesis it perfectly made sense for Wonho to be the firstborn son and for Minhyuk to be the first one to die, so the rumors weren’t that far away from the truth after all. Although something didn’t quite fit as it was told that God had refused Cain’s sacrifices and punished him to a life of wandering. So why would Wonho be the one with the bright shining soul? Except it had been God’s plan to lure Kihyun into a trap from the very beginning, for the sins he poisoned the human souls with.  
  
  
  
"This is going to be interesting."

 

As he placed the book of Minhyuk’s contract back into the shelf, his eyes paused a moment on his own hand. He didn’t know what it was, but he could still feel Minhyuk’s soft cheek under his fingers. Demons weren't supposed to touch a human being like that, with care and a hint of affection and yet there were enough documented cases of them falling in love, even bringing a child, a Nephilim, to this world. How could bloodthirsty monsters, torturers of the souls, fall in love? Many demons had, and humans Hyungwon had seduced over the time with his angelic appearance had claimed to love him and as _Pride_ , he loved it to hear them showering him with compliments. It was the same with Minhyuk and the way he had been looking at his portrait, in pure awe, unworthy to even look at him properly, like he was in a trance and wasn’t even able to survive without being close to him.

 

The boy, though, the young Minhyuk hadn’t looked at him like this, like he was a higher being that needed to be praised. He had smiled at him and the way he had reached out for him in his imagination had been so honest and pure and he could understand why purity and innocence were so fascinating for demons - why Kihyun was flying around Wonho’s soul like a moth around a lightbulb - with the difference that Hyungwon hadn’t had any intention to destroy Minhyuk. Nevertheless, he dismissed the thought that there might’ve been a slight feeling of love towards him so Hyungwon closed his eyes and returned back to the world of the living.

 

\---

 

As Minhyuk sat there inside the tram, looking out of the window, he was wondering how long it was going to take him to finish his masterpiece. How long would he be able to walk this earth? Should he already say goodbye to his friends, to his parents and his brother? Was Wonho going to call their parents to stop by because he was worried about him? The uncertainty of his decease made him nauseous but at the same time, everything he could think about was his work, like nothing else mattered anymore.  

  
  
All of a sudden, time seemed to slow down and Minhyuk could count every single raindrop outside, every single drop that flowed down the cold window. Slowly, everything, every single color faded to grey and as he looked around in the interior room of the tram, he came to realize, that the only passenger was himself - and all those faceless shadows coming toward him. Minhyuk unconsciously clenched his teeth together, his breathing increased abruptly and he lowered his head to stare at his hands he had placed in his lap, clawing his fingers into the cloth of his jeans.

 

_Stop this. I need it to stop._

 

There were whispers hushing by his ear and Minhyuk pressed his eyelids together, hoping, pleading it would stop. He couldn’t understand what they were saying and the whispers didn’t even sound like _real_ words in the first place. There was a low growl right in front of him and cold sweat was running down his spine as he tried to keep his eyes shut, even as something wet was dripping over his hands and hot breathing hit his face as he kept repeating the word _Stop_ over and over again.

 

 _“Hey, you mangy mutt. What do you think you’re doing?”_ Hyungwon grabbed Changkyun hard on his nape to turn him around so he had to look at him.

 

 _“Why did you claim him?”_ Changkyun whimpered as Hyungwon pushed him aside like he was some distasteful piece of trash, unworthy his glory. The whole conversation remained unheard of Minhyuk but he could feel that someone was there and he didn’t even dare to open his eyes yet.

 

 _“I’d say that’s none of your business.”_ he simply responded and eyed Minhyuk in front of him, so frightened because he slowly started to drift away from the world of the living, walking straight into the world of the supernatural and with every move, the shadows would become more visible, more clearly, the whispers would turn into voices and screams and there was nothing Hyungwon could do about it. Although, he was sure that Minhyuk was going to lock himself inside his atelier sooner or later because the fulfilments of Kihyun’s contracts mostly led to obsession, decay, and eventual death.

 

 _“He’s going to punish and destroy you for good this time.”_ Changkyun growled and wiped away the blood that had been dripping off the corner of his mouth - a small vestige of the woman he had ripped into pieces just a few blocks away in a dark alley this morning. Before he could even continue, Hyungwon had already placed his hand on Minhyuk’s shoulder to bring him safely to his atelier, far away from shadows, whispers, and bloodthirsty hellhounds.

 

Minhyuk could feel the change of the atmosphere and opened his eyes slowly and uncertain, letting out a relieved gasp before tears started to run down his cheeks. He covered his face with his hands and cried. Cried because it was too much to grasp, too overwhelming, too _real_ and at the same time so unreal. He didn’t want this.

 

Yes, of course, he wanted to be successful and he had been willing enough to sell his soul for that purpose but he hadn’t been prepared for _this_. All those mind games and that he would actually witness the changes and the decay around him made Minhyuk think it would’ve been better to die right away. It was like he was going crazy, losing his sanity over his dreams. And for what? That the world would know his name long after he was gone.

 

Regret was all he felt. Regret and pity for himself, that he had been too weak to make his dreams come true on his own and there was no joy in the way everything was going down now. All the time Hyungwon sat next to him at the table in silence, watched the teardrops running down Minhyuk’s cheeks as the raindrops did on the misty windows. He couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him even though he had never experienced it to lose the life he used to know, to see his world irresistibly changing and the mirror breaking. Not to mention that there had been only a few very rare incidents in history that Hyungwon had felt something like sympathy at all but Minhyuk did something to him he couldn’t explain but couldn’t deny either.

 

He resisted the urge to touch him, just listened to his sobbing and the rain that splattered against the windows. It had become a very familiar sound these days, only supporting Minhyuk’s sentiment that the sky was falling down on him, crushing him down.

 

Hyungwon got up from the table and placed a branch of bright pink peach blossoms right in front of Minhyuk, which strong scent made the latter lower his hands by surprise, just to reach out for the branch instead. With a look of confusion, he scanned his surroundings, trying to find the source but could find nothing at all. Minhyuk didn’t hope for an angel that found its way to him to protect his soul but the sweet scent of the peach blossoms eased his pain in a way nothing else could.  

 

“Thank you.” Minhyuk whispered hoarsely and dried his tears, ready to move on with his task. Maybe it was ironic, that out of all people a prince of hell, Pride, whose purpose it was to seduce innocent souls into sin, was easing Minhyuk’s pain, was providing him with comfort and a mere feeling of hope in a grey world full of cruelty and shards of glass piercing his soul, but maybe there was hope even in the darkest times of life.

 

_A small flickering light in the darkness._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments and kudos are always welcome! ❤️
> 
> Twitter: 
> 
> @crimson_chou  
> @trashstax


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you know what your heart really desires?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meanings of the symbols of Hyungwon and Minhyuk for a better understanding
> 
> Hyungwon: peach (blossoms) symbolize youth, immortality, and peace
> 
> Minhyuk: black roses symbolize death but also rebirth

 

The water in the glass where Minhyuk had put the bright pink branch of peach blossoms in, was shading the slight hint of sunlight on the desk like it was providing him with comfort and something like hope Minhyuk wasn’t even believing in anymore. All he wanted to do was to crawl under his desk or roll himself up on the shabby couch, trying to ignore the world that was breaking down around him into millions of pieces. After his tears had dried, he had realized a tint of color on his hands and he came to remember that something moist had been dripping on it before in the tram but just now that he observed it more closely he identified it as blood. There was blood on his hands and he didn’t know where it had come from and the thought of whatever it was that was lingering in the shadows frightened him even more.

 

His whole body was shaking and tears started to show in the corners of his eyes once again. He felt so helpless, so small, a lot smaller than ever before since the realization that the universe was so much bigger than he could have ever imagined it. The thought that there really was something else out there, maybe right next to him he couldn’t see, made him sick and panic started to spread out from his stomach, working its way through his entire body. Minhyuk stared at the peach blossoms as he stood there in front of his desk after he had cleaned his hands for over ten minutes with soap and disinfectant to wash the blood off of it. Although it was gone, Minhyuk still had the feeling that it was sticking on his skin. He couldn’t see it with his human eyes but he could feel that it was still there.

 

It was exactly that, the things some could not see that were the more terrifying, the terror of sleepless nights. He didn’t know what he was fighting against, who his enemy was and the only thing he could see for sure was the endless darkness of the abyss that was slowly crawling up his body, possessing him until nothing was left of him. What would it mean to stop to exist in this world and start to exist in another even more cruel one, where no sunlight would ever hit his face again? He had been standing on a crossroad and he couldn’t deny the fact that he had chosen his path. He had chosen to walk down into the dark frightening forest of the unknown. Did it even matter to question what the other path would have let him to? Minhyuk doubted it. In any case, had his life come to a standstill and no matter how much effort he had put into his way of living he had never left the zero point.

 

There was no goal in clear sight nor was there a path leading him there. The crossroad had vanished leaving him behind in a dark forest of nothing - there was no going back. Without a path nor knowledge of navigation, like he had been thrown off a ship by a thunderstorm at high sea, sinking deeper and deeper into the deep sea, into the silence - into a world with no sunlight. He had never realized it until now how bright a simple smile could shine, how it could fill his heart up with warmth and ease and the belief that no matter the circumstances everything was going to be okay.

 

The young artist tried to straighten his posture and wiped the upcoming tears away from the corner of his eyes and started to clean up the mess of crumpled papers that were plastered all over the floor, showing his wasted efforts on catching the true beauty of the man he had seen inside his vision. There was no going back so he had to move on or was it even a possibility to just remain in place? Not going anywhere. Would it mean he would never die? Though at the same time it would mean he would never live, right? Standing still, remaining in place was like a certain death because nothing would ever change as change was the only sign of life.

 

The uneasiness wouldn’t leave his body as much as he tried to shake it off of him. His throat felt like thick thorns were piercing him, while a giant heavy shadow, a monster, was sitting on his chest. He wanted to run away, far away, closing his eyes, hoping that it had all been a dream and his brother would smile at him and tell him everything was going to be okay. His brother.  
  
  
_Wonho._

  
Minhyuk let out a shaky breath and lowered the trash can he held in his right hand, as he kneeled there on the floor. His eyes wandered over to the peach blossoms once more, the silent witness of comfort, the small light inside the darkness. Wonho had always been his light, provided him with comfort in his darkest hours but now Minhyuk was stepping away from him, into a colder world that piercing cold was hurting his mind and soul.

 

He thought about Wonho’s worried expression this morning, as he had left him behind without any clue of what was going on. Sure, listening to Wonho’s reports about his work over breakfast had always been some kind of ritual for them, but that he was talking about the devil, the actual devil, praising how perfect he was, had been too much. Furthermore, every word Minhyuk had wanted to say to warn his brother had remained a mere thought, a silent lump in his throat as if something, or _someone_ , was keeping him from telling the truth.

 

_A truth no one would believe anyway._

 

What was he thinking? Would he run after him to save him after all? Was Wonho not only his light but a miracle? Minhyuk had never doubted him, no one would ever doubt the abilities and the perfection of his brother, the light and the purity.

 

Nevertheless, was this light going to dim by the devil that was with him? It was so absurd! Of course, people believed in the good and evil since the beginning of time, comforting and punishing their own kind with something they could not understand and had never seen. They just believed that it was there without questioning what it meant, _really_ meant, for a soul to step into a world that wasn’t ruled by humans. When a loved one died they’d simply believe they’d go to a better place, that they would be forgiven for the sins they had done. And the assumption was the same for people whom had done wrong, some would believe that they would get punished in the afterlife without getting to the bottom of it.

 

And if it wasn’t heaven and hell, people would believe in the universe, in karma, in fate, in Gods of all kinds just to believe that everything was happening for a reason so they could live peacefully in the illusion that their lives weren’t just circuits of living and dying. Minhyuk hated the lack of knowledge he had about this matter and he became angrier the more he was thinking about the unawareness of the world, about their ignorance and the blindness. But what did he know? He had never questioned the laws of the universe before, didn’t try to understand something he simply couldn’t understand.   

 

_Why is this happening?_

 

He let out a defeated sigh and set the trash can down on the floor next to his desk with a loud noise. _Reassurance_. Minhyuk needed to reassure himself that he was doing the right thing after all. That whatever was going to happen with him was worth the pain. What was worth the price must have been worth the fight.

 

His eyes wandered over to Shownu’s workspace of the atelier and got fixed on a certain canvas that was wrapped in a sheet for protection. Hyungwon was watching Minhyuk during the whole process, could see how disturbed and hurt he was. How much anger and desperation was filling up his heart as he got up from the floor to rush over to the other side of the atelier in a few steps to grab a specifical canvas, unwrapping it aggressively.

 

For a moment, Hyungwon thought that Minhyuk was going to destroy that certain piece of art as he had seen the rage of Shownu’s success inside of Minhyuk before as Kihyun had pushed him over the cliff, showing him his deepest, darkest failures.  
  


But much to Hyungwon’s surprise, Minhyuk was placing the canvas on one of the free easels, stepping away from it so he could examine the piece as a whole.

 

It was the painting Shownu had done of Minhyuk while he had done his sketches for another commission. The composition of colors, the lightning - everything framed Minhyuk in calmness and beauty and he wanted to believe at this moment Shownu had captured in his painting. He wanted to believe that this particular moment, frozen in time, would stay forever and that the few people that were important to him would remind him like this. Would remind the warmth and the passion and not the emptiness he would leave behind.

 

There was not even a hint of pride inside of Minhyuk's eyes as he looked at himself in the painting just sadness and loneliness. Little did he know of the demon standing right beside him observing the painting where Minhyuk looked so peaceful, yes, someone could say happy. This was Minhyuk's way of reassuring himself that he indeed could be happy even if he was fighting on lost cause. There was no one cheering up for him, neither was there a loved one waiting for him, embracing him, telling him that he had done great.

 

Hyungwon looked at the artist, how he was kneading his knuckles, assuming that his fingers still hurt from holding the pencil for days. There was an uneasy impression on his face as he sighed heavily and went back to his workplace of the atelier, while Hyungwon remained standing in front of the painting. He could see a purity in the way Minhyuk was sitting there, in a moment he obviously hadn't been aware of that Shownu had been watching him. There was no feeling of loss and bitterness, nor was there the sinner that was going to pay for his sins in this painting but a certain kind of glow, something innocent but fearless - like the young version of Minhyuk Hyungwon had seen the previous night.

 

It was odd that the light inside of Minhyuk's soul wasn't visible when he wasn't working on his art and even then had it taken time to finally see it. Why would it appear now? Hyungwon was wondering about that. Minhyuk's soul looked rotten and desperate, lost and filthy and therefore was nearly an invitation for every demon to take him down to hell but somehow the structure of his soul seemed to change with every step he was moving forward on his task.

 

But what could it possibly be?

 

What exactly were the facts of this questionable situation? Kihyun had tricked Minhyuk into signing the contract, promising him success and happiness in exchange for his soul - nothing unusual for the devil. His main motive, although, hadn’t been Minhyuk but his brother, since his soul shined so bright and eternal, stainless and clear, there would have been no other way for Kihyun to communicate with Wonho, whose soul was shining like the brightest star in the sky - like the morning star.

 

Many myths and legends were entwined around the meaning of the morning star and one of them was derived from a Biblical passage which identifies a Babylonian god having fallen from the throne of heaven for his arrogance, simply described with the Latin word _Lucifer_.

 

The morning star was also another name for the planet _Venus_ , which was called _Lucifer_ in the roman astronomy and due to its low position in the sky likely gave rise to the myth of an angel had fallen from heaven. Especially in ancient times, it was believed, that the god of the dawn, the morning star, would open the gates of heaven for the sun to pass through, welcoming a new day. Many myths and personifications existed for that matter and Hyungwon had the feeling that it wasn’t just coincidence that Kihyun was so drawn to Wonho at this time of history. Was he still hoping for his father, for God, to show up? Was he maybe hoping that the light of Wonho’s soul would be the key he needed to enter heaven again?

 

It was told that humans and demons were banned, _expelled_ from heaven for punishment and while humans would get another chance for some reason, there was no chance for a demon to ever enter the glory of the light or having any kind of conversation with God. That at least explained why demons would come to the world of the living, not only to torture human souls but fall in love with them because it was the only world different from hell, a safe haven in a world of fire and perennial hopelessness. Hyungwon doubted that Kihyun felt any kind of love towards Wonho, was even capable of feeling love - although he had loved his father more than anyone else his jealousy for the human race had led him to rebellion.

 

Hyungwon’s long fingers traced over the lines of Minhyuk’s face, his soft features in the painting and for some reason he wanted to see him like this in front of him, touch his warm cheek like he had done the night before. He couldn’t recall one moment in his long-lasting, immortal life that he had ever felt something like this for a human being. There had been a lot of occasions he had walked the earth, seduced humans with his beauty, making them spineless bodies of pleasure and greed, never questioning their weak nature. And maybe Minhyuk was a weak human too, prone to sin and fail because he was hoping for happiness in his life like everyone else.

 

It would have been an easy task to show up on him, making him go blind only with his presence, forcing him down on his knees to obey but instead he was asking himself if Minhyuk was afraid of him. Knowing that there was something, _someone_ , beside him, providing him with comfort but not knowing what or who it was, feeling lost in a world where he wasn’t welcome anymore, submitted to supernatural power and the belief that he was _nothing_.

 

Hyungwon’s fingers traced over Minhyuk’s lips on the painting, avert his eyes from it to look over to the person himself, obviously searching for the material he was going to use for whatever step was going to follow after he had finally managed to sketch the blueprint inside his sketchbook. For a moment he thought about the possibilities of sabotaging the progress of his work again as he had done the endless days before but he decided against it because he wanted to see what was going to happen if his soul would start to glow once again he was working on his task. Moreover, he was curious and somehow he wanted to protect Minhyuk from any more harm, anymore scars the world was leaving on him.

 

A silent observer, a comforting scent of peaches and a warm touch on Minhyuk’s cheek, telling him that it was going to be okay. He was sure Kihyun wouldn’t let him get away with his own personal rebellion so easily, though, Hyungwon had his doubts that Kihyun would hurt Minhyuk’s beloved brother as he was using him as his personal sex slave at the moment. But considering that his loyal pet was running around to rip innocent souls into pieces, it wouldn’t take much time until Changkyun was craving for Kihyun’s attention again - and he was not very pleasant company when he was jealous, though, demons, in general, weren’t.

 

Minhyuk however, tried to set his focus back on his work. He had prepared a fresh pot of coffee before he had moved over to the shelf where he stored his material, to prepare high-quality air-dry clay, sculpting tools, sandpaper and patterns he needed on his desk. A light brown apron was wrapped around his waist and the sleeves of his shirt had been pushed up to his elbows and no sooner than the coffee was finished, Minhyuk sat down on his desk sipping on the cup of freshly brewed coffee. The pot had been placed next to the glass with the branch of peach blossoms and Minhyuk took a moment to lean closer, inhaling the sweet scent of the blossoms, while a warm smile started to enlighten his face. A smile he wasn’t aware of had a very strong impact in the demon that was still watching him from the other side of the atelier.

 

He opened his eyes with a surprising impression like he had remembered something important that he really needed to work on his doll but hadn’t had prepared yet - his sketchbook. Although he could see the face of this ethereal being clearly behind his eyelids, like he was standing in front of him whenever he closed his eyes, he still needed the sketch to build his first prototype of the doll. Shortly after, Minhyuk had pulled the sketchbook out of his duffle bag to place it on the desk, tracing his fingers over the sketch of Hyungwon. He couldn’t help but thinking that he felt safe looking at him, like there was nothing to worry about and the sooner he would finish his work the sooner he would be able to trace the lines of his face with his fingers - although it wouldn’t be warm skin he was touching but cold and hardened clay he had formed with his own two hands.

 

_And still, I am able to touch you in some way._

 

None of his creations, sculptures nor dolls were alive, although they nearly looked like it and still he found comfort in touching the smooth lines he had formed, not in a sexual way, but something deeper. He couldn’t describe the feeling he had whenever he finished another piece, maybe a small piece of pride that he was able to create something like this, emptiness because no one would really see its beauty but him, loneliness because those dead eyes where the only ones looking at him like this and the strongest feeling every artist was cursed with: _dissatisfaction_ \- the feeling that he could have done better, the engine that kept every artist going, craving for some kind of perfection that clearly couldn’t be reached. And still, it was one of the deepest desires any artist felt, that somewhere behind the black curtain inside their minds was something even more breathtaking, something really special, some potential they hadn’t set free yet.

 

Ignoring his shaky fingers, Minhyuk opened the package of the air-dry clay, that was especially useful for larger scale dolls. He had tried a lot of different clays and materials over the years, had experienced a lot of errors but there simply was no other way to know how the various kinds of materials worked. It was one thing to watch tutorials on the internet or reading reviews and books from other artist and really feeling the material under his own fingers, forming it, exploring its behavior when it was dry, wet or was worked on with tools or filed with sandpaper.

 

It was the same with Wonho and his violin. It had taken some time for him to find the instrument that fulfilled his needs perfectly - and he had tried and examined a lot of violins and strings over time. With his increasing success had also come a greater requirement for the sound of his violin. Wonho had to rely on his instrument, had to feel and know it and was the same for Minhyuk and his materials. Clay, paper, pencils, shaping tools. No matter what it was he had had to find the one that was right for him. So in the end, he had settled with air-dry-clay and porcelain, watercolor brushes to shape very small areas and to paint the faces of the dolls and metal wax-carvers, because they came in various handy shapes like needle-like tips, tiny spatulas, and carving tools and looked kind of like dentist tools - though it was a good selection for every kind of work.

 

Minhyuk remembered how long it had taken at the very beginning to build even the prototype of a doll. It had been months of trial and error and it had been so exhausting he couldn't even count how often he had wanted to give up on it - especially because people would always tell him that he was just wasting his time on a task that didn't bring him any money. And maybe it wasn't much money he was making with his dolls now, but the people who did really appreciated his work could see the love he had put in every single tint of color he had painted the delicate faces of the dolls with.

  
  
Although he was able to build a prototype a lot faster now he didn't know how long it was going to take him making the actual doll. Weeks, months if he hadn't got any super powers that magically allowed him to form his material perfectly without even trying. But the less time it would take to make this doll the shorter would be his time on earth - his death in clear sight, reachable in a few steps ahead.

 

Deep in thought, Minhyuk kneaded the clay in his hands as he came to realize that there were so many things he hadn't tried yet, places he hadn't seen, and feelings he hadn't felt and for a moment he placed the ball of clay down on the table, staring at the distance without focusing on anything in particular. Minhyuk was a man who had nothing to lose anymore and he could possibly do anything he ever wanted but had never tried. But what would it be? He had never been interested in material things like designer clothes or a fast car.

 

_Freedom. Happiness. Love._

 

All he wished for the most were feelings, real feelings. So true and honest and overwhelming that he was about to cry. But the thing with feelings was that they needed time to develop and to grow until they had formed a strong bond - especially love. There were so many different kinds of love and the common mistake that passion was at the same level as love. That physical love, _sex_ , was the highest form to show someone that you are truly in love. Was it really? Minhyuk desired Wonho's body for so long, wanted to feel him deep inside, wanted him to take his breath away but he himself wasn't convinced anymore that this feeling he had had could be described as love - now that it was slowly fading away, slipping through his fingers like fine sand on the beach.

  
  
And now that he was going to die, was there even the slightest possibility that he would find love, real  _love_?

 

Minhyuk hated the situation he dragged himself into and the fact that he couldn’t talk to anyone about it without them sending him to a shrink. But maybe there was someone and maybe it was crazy, but he couldn’t work and wait until his life was over, until the silence that was piercing his eardrums was eating him alive. He abandoned the clay for a brief moment, wiped his right hand on his apron and searched for something in the top drawer of his desk and, as he had found it, placed it next to the ball of clay - another sketchbook. It was a new one Minhyuk hadn’t used yet and he felt the uneasiness growing inside of him, as he bit his lower lip and stared at the cover for a while.

 

_This is so stupid._

 

Was it? He had nothing to lose and he felt like he was going crazy anyway, so what he was about to do was the least of his problems. With another deep breath Minhyuk was taking in, he opened the sketchbook and stared at the blank page in front of him, gulping down his anxiety before he asked in a raspy voice:

 

“Are you there?”

 

Who was he even addressing? Minhyuk didn’t know, neither did he know that Hyungwon had stepped away from the painting and had moved over to him, standing in front of his desk, observing the mix of nervousness and uneasiness in his face. Maybe no one was there and the peach blossoms were just a trick his mind was playing to comfort him in this hopeless situation he was in. Nothing did happen for a while as Minhyuk once again kneaded his knuckles to ease his nerves that felt so tense like they were going to snap any moment. Disappointed he let out a shaky breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding and at the same moment his hands reached out for the sketchbook to put it away into the drawer again, letters started to form on the paper.

 

In shock, Minhyuk pushed himself away from the desk so his chair fell over including him, making him collide with the hard wooden floor. He let out a whine of pain, collecting himself before he unsurely crawled over to the table on all fours before he stretched his neck over the table top to see what was written on the page.

 

_“I’m here.”_ was written in perfectly shaped letters like they had been measured with a ruler and Minhyuk slowly sank down on his knees again. Not knowing what to do with this information. After the terror of visions he had experienced, he should have been used to supernatural and fucked up things like this, well letters appearing on a piece of paper and peach branches appearing out of nowhere were definitely the most _normal_ things that had happened recently.

 

“Oh God, I’m going crazy.” Minhyuk whispered to himself and tried to rub his face a few times, slapping his cheeks while he pressed his eyelids together to make sure he was indeed awake before he took another look at the sketchbook, to come to the very same conclusion: Some invisible being had answered him and he was indeed not alone. If this was a good or bad sign in his situation remained very questionable to Minhyuk, especially after he had seen all those shadows in the tram this morning.

 

“Are,” He started hesitantly. “Are you a demon?” Did he want to know that? _Really_ wanted to know that? No, he didn’t, although his question was answered once again.

 

_“Yes.”_

 

“Do you have a name?” Minhyuk asked in fear without really thinking about it.

 

_“Hyungwon.”_ Of course, Hyungwon couldn’t reveal his real name to Minhyuk as the true name of a demon held great power over it. Considering those nasty priests with their unpleasant exorcisms, killing most of the possessed humans - especially children - in the process. Not that a holy father fucking young ministrants behind closed doors was any kind of threat for princes of hell like Hyungwon. A sinner was a sinner and held no power over them with or without a name.

 

“What do you want?” Slowly he got back on his feet, staring down on the sketchbook, waiting for an answer that didn’t come right away this time, though, as it did, it still left him in confusion.

 

_“I am just an observer.”_

 

Minhyuk stared at the neatly written letters, standing unsure in front of his desk. If there was a good time to start taking drugs or pump himself up with alcohol, this would be it. He was talking to an invisible being that was answering him by writing on a piece of paper, telling him that he was an observer - whatever that meant. His emotions were fluctuating between disbelief, denial, fear and the need to start to cry once again as well as the impulse to laugh because he _was_ insane.

 

“Great. So I have my own invisible stalker now.” he said to himself laughing hysterically as he grabbed the chair off the floor and sat down again, hesitantly, in front of his desk, burying his right hand in his hair not knowing how to continue with this kind of information. Very often, people would use phrases like _The angels are watching over you_ or _God is watching over you_ and it was only the thought of angels being white and feathery, kind and gracious what made the thought of being watched by them more pleasant, providing a feeling of comfort but terror.

 

From a very young age, people would fear the unknown in the darkness. The monster under the bed, the shadows dancing on the ceiling at night, the creaking on the dark dusty attic. So it didn’t come by surprise that everything that came out of the world of dark shadows was portrait as horrific, as something people had to be afraid of, something that wasn’t comforting. Monsters, vampires, demons, foul creatures, deformed from decay and the lack of the glory of the sunlight.

 

And with these thoughts, Minhyuk’s first impulse was to think about an ugly green kobold-like creature from hell that was lingering in a grey shadowy world, coexisting next to the world of the living, following its own rules. Although, what Minhyuk had seen of the Devil himself was also far away from the image he had had of him before - an ugly creature, with demonic wings, horns, his skin burning red from the fires of hell and not to forget the obligatory dung fork.

 

Little did he know of the calm eyes of the angelic being that was watching him, far away from all the monsters of his nightmares - but truly not less dangerous and deadly than them.

 

“Are you the one I’ve seen in the vision?” Minhyuk asked hesitantly, lowering his hand to reach out for the sketchbook that showed Hyungwon’s portrait and the blueprint, trying to make sense of the chaos that surrounded him. Would it change anything if this man was watching him right now? Maybe. But the only thing he would possibly feel would have been even more shame. He didn’t feel worthy enough for someone like this and his thoughts didn’t stay hidden from Hyungwon at all, so the answer lifted at least a bit tension off of his shoulders.

 

_“No. You should go back to work.”_

 

“Right.” Minhyuk murmured and blew out the air of his lungs before he reached out to take a big sip of his cup of coffee. How could he know that this was the truth? Of course, he couldn’t. Demons would lie all the time, it’s just what they do and maybe it was the best option for Minhyuk to live with this lie, keep going with it because was there even a possibility he as a human would be able to understand all these new laws of another universe when he was simply a dead man walking? Probably not.

 

“I guess you know all about me then and I don’t have to tell you anything, but I don’t think I can live like this.” Minhyuk placed the sketchbook back on its original place to start kneading the clay again after he had wetted his fingers with some water he had prepared in a glass. Yes, he felt stupid talking kind of to himself without having a clue what he was trying to say but he couldn’t keep it inside any longer. He had a cheerful character buried under all the frustration and anger the world had filled him up with. Even with the knowledge that he was a disappointment for his parents and had cowardly sold his soul to get at least one piece of the cake.

 

“I’m so afraid, you know? I just don’t understand what is happening to me and why am I seeing all these horrible things out there. All I ever wanted was to be like my brother or Shownu, so people would recognize me and would see the beauty in my art.” He took the pattern to form various sized balls out of the clay, working concentrated and skillfully, knowing perfectly well what he was doing from all the years of experience. “I tried to move on every single time one of the art collectors and galleries put me off or dismissed me saying it wasn’t good enough. I tried to smile and cheer my brother up whenever he took another step up the ladder, climbing higher and further away from me and yet I couldn’t bring myself to hate him openly, showing him how jealous I was.” He looked up for a moment, staring at the distance before he continued to shape the other body parts for the doll.

 

“How jealous I am.” he continued after a little while. And even though it hurt him saying it out loud to himself it hurt far less than the visions the Devil had shown to him, forcing him to face his own sins, forcing him to face the forbidden desires he had for his own brother. “I don’t know why I couldn’t make it on my own and why I had to think about Wonho fucking me senseless. Maybe because he was always there for me, cheering me up and everyone can see how bright he shines. Not only when he laughs or smiles, no, but you feel calm and relaxed when you’re next to him like nothing could ever harm him because he’s so pure. Sometimes I think he isn’t even real and I really try to feel guilty that I handed Wonho over to the Devil. It can’t be described as an act of love, can it? I should have known better, that I am the failure and I shouldn’t have reached out for the stars when there’s not even a chance for me to reach them. And Wonho. Wonho is like the brightest star of all and the Devil is going to break him, dimming his light, sucking him dry until nothing is left of it. And it’s all my fault.”

 

Minhyuk was waiting for the tears, for the guilt and the shame but there was nothing but this hole, a missing piece inside of him, his mind desperately wanted to find and replace but couldn’t find. He thought about the picture of Wonho and him and how his image had been so blurred like he would vanish piece by piece from this earth, losing himself every day a little bit more. Moreover, was there a possibility that he was turning into one of the shadows he had seen earlier? Would he become just a faceless _nothing_?

 

“I’m afraid to…”

 

_I’m afraid to die. I’m afraid to disappear. I’m afraid._

 

His words hung heavy inside his mind and heavy in the air even if he hadn’t given them a voice but he was sure the demon or whatever might be standing beside him would know what he had intended to say. Hyungwon remained silent the whole time, watching Minhyuk forming the limbs for the prototype of his doll, while he listened to him making excuses for the way he was, making excuses for the decision he had made to get what he really desired and it was just unfortunate that he had dragged his brother into his own mess without him knowing that he was even in it. But Hyungwon wasn’t sure if Kihyun would be able to dim Wonho’s light, breaking this beautiful star into millions of particles of stardust because he couldn’t say for sure what Wonho really was.

 

Although Minhyuk was working, it bothered Hyungwon that his soul wasn’t showing that small glimmer of light at all, that he couldn’t see the life in it like he had done the previous day. He couldn’t reach out to the young version of Minhyuk because it simply wasn’t present, while he was so occupied with pitying himself, making excuses and drowning into the darkness of his heart. This Minhyuk in front of him was afraid of dying while the one inside of him was believing in _going home_ and it was like two puzzle pieces that simply didn’t match but were part in the same great picture he wasn’t able to see as a whole yet.

 

_“Tell me about the things your heart desires the most.”_

 

Minhyuk examined the words written on the page of the sketchbook next to him, getting used to the thought that in his reality it was pretty normal, that some invisible force could communicate with him that way. He didn’t felt special because of that, not in the slightest way because he was perfectly aware of the fact that this all was just possible because he had sold his soul to the Devil and nothing of it was part of a living-happily-ever-after-life everyone was wishing for.

 

“Isn’t it success?” Minhyuk said right away wondering because wasn’t being successful for the first and only time in his life the equivalent value for his soul? Why was this demon asking him about it? Shouldn’t he know what he truly desired inside his heart?

 

_“It is not what your heart desires the most.”_

 

He immediately stopped forming the torso of the doll out of the white clay and frowned his eyebrows deep in thought while Hyungwon was waiting for his answer, waiting for the door to open so he was able to step into his subconsciousness again. It was a hidden door, without a key, a door Kihyun wasn’t aware of but neither was Minhyuk and everything Hyungwon needed was just a small gap to slip through.

 

“I don’t know. I just want people to see the beauty in my art because it’s everything for me like I put a piece of my heart in every doll and sculpture I create and I’m going to put every last piece into this one.” His voice was soft as he traced his thumb over the torso of the doll, looking at the piece warm-heartedly and with so much affection like this was everything for him, the purpose he was living for even though he hadn’t started to build the actual doll of Hyungwon yet. But it was exactly this kind of affection that made his soul glow once again, not as strong as the day before, just a small glimmer but enough for Hyungwon to see and enough for him to lean over the table and touch Minhyuk’s hand unnoticed so he was able to emerge into his subconsciousness again.

 

Hyungwon was wondering why Minhyuk’s mind remained in the ceilingless corridor, that was only filled with the sound of raindrops. It was very calming in a way, providing a cozy and comfortable feeling while on the other hand it only underlined the sadness one could feel in a moment of paralyzing pain.

 

As the demon walked through the sheer endless hall he recognized that a few things had changed, things he hadn’t created in the original vision, when he had stigmatized his image inside of Minhyuk’s mind. The carpet had changed its color from purple to a Bordeaux-red and the once clean and white walls had changed into black ones covered with thin tendrils, trailing over the walls like pulsing veins of a living breathing organism. There was the ticking sound of a clock echoing through the halls and judging from its sound it must have been a big and old one, with heavy watch-hands but it was nowhere to be seen.

 

How was it even possible? Hyungwon didn’t know as normal souls weren’t able to change illusions and visions demons had planted inside their minds and yet Minhyuk seemed to have the ability to do exactly that. He stopped his steps in front of the portrait showing himself, and looked around, watching out for the young Minhyuk that should have been here. But nothing was happening for a while and neither did Minhyuk show up, there was only the sound of rain surrounding him and the thick and heavy sound of an invisible clock in the distance. Suddenly the sweet rich scent of roses hit his nose thrills and he looked down the dark hallway, he had come from that was swallowed by the darkness. But before Hyungwon had the chance to follow the scent into the unknown he heard a voice right next to him.

 

“He’s too afraid. He can’t see it yet.”

 

Hyungwon looked beside himself to find that the boy was holding a black rose up to him, it’s stern covered with thick thorns so he had to hold it carefully with his small hands and the demon slowly took it from him, a questioning look on his face. The petals of the rose were indeed pitch black, were not reflecting any kind of light available in the dim lit hallway.

 

“What should he be able to see?”

 

“Home.”

 

The boy looked up at him for a few moments before he started to smile, reaching out for Hyungwon’s hand, that wasn’t holding the rose, fearlessly.

 

“Where’s your home?” The demon asked still in confusion as nothing this boy did match up with the experiences he had made with other human souls before. None of them had been able to touch him like this, and none of them had been able to change their surroundings as they pleased but Minhyuk was different and he couldn’t tell why. Normally the rotten souls would be so greedy, clinging to their possessions, claiming that they had never done anything wrong, with a consistency like chewing gum and there was never a young child waiting with a smile on its lips waiting to go home.

 

Why was he so different and pure in his own way? And why was it that only Hyungwon could see it but Kihyun could not? It was true that this hidden door inside of Minhyuk’s soul was only opening if he showed love and affection for his work but even as Kihyun had watched him before he had made a move on him there had been no sign of it.

 

The boy answered him but no sound reached Hyungwon’s ears and everything he could see was the movement of Minhyuk’s lips before he smiled at him once again and let go of his hand. Right in the next moment, Hyungwon was back, standing in front of Minhyuk’s desk, where the young artist was still working on the limbs of the doll but the door to his soul was closed shut again.

 

“I wonder what’s going to happen to Wonho when I’m gone and will the Devil stay by his side? I mean I can’t protect him now and I really try to feel guilty but there’s just this black hole inside of me right where my feelings for him should be but there’s only a taste, a memory I can’t reach.”

 

It was obvious to Hyungwon that it must have something to do with the fact that Minhyuk was talking, worrying about his brother and his focus wasn’t entirely set on his work. Would it have been better if he hadn’t answered him? Maybe he had overstepped a line he shouldn’t have, although, leaving Minhyuk behind in fear wouldn’t have been the best option either - especially because he was going to need his comfort no sooner than he would start to hear the whispers more clearly and see the shadows as what they were. Hyungwon was sure Kihyun would come back for him sooner or later and his drooling lapdog wouldn’t back off either.

 

As Hyungwon wanted to look at the rose the younger Minhyuk had given him, he came to find the rose was gone - at least its physical appearance. But there it was, a small black rose on his wrist, and it looked like the blossom mark Hyungwon had left behind Minhyuk’s ear.

 

_“Is this a joke?”_ he scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. Minhyuk had marked him, _claimed_ him but it was just impossible. He wasn’t a demon nor an angel because he would have felt it, would have seen it in his soul and only princes of hell and the Devil were able to leave their mark behind. And Hyungwon as Pride was nearly untouchable except for Kihyun and still here he was, confused by a mortal rotten soul that was more complex than a puzzle box.

 

As he looked over to Minhyuk again, the young artist was looking up at him, well not really at him, as he couldn’t see him but why did it feel like he could? Something was going on but Hyungwon couldn’t yet figure out what it was but he couldn’t listen to Minhyuk making excuses anymore.

 

He leaned over the desk, placing his hands on it to look at Minhyuk more closely. There was nothing out of the ordinary with him. He was just a human that had sold his soul to the Devil for a piece of happiness, pleading for forgiveness, feeling guilty for their sins. At least both of them were sitting in the same boat, as Hyungwon had nobody he could consult about this strange behavior of a soul, neither were his abilities as a demon any kind of help to solve this problem. For some reason, they were connected and it was obviously not the doing of Kihyun but God? It’s not like he was showing up that much so why would he bother to create a soul like Minhyuk’s and Wonho’s? Just so high ranked demons could walk the earth in confusion?

 

Not that anything humans were doing made sense to Hyungwon but neither was how drawn he felt to Minhyuk, how fascinated he was - now more than ever.

 

Hyungwon looked down on Minhyuk’s fingers, becoming aware that he was still in pain, remembering how soft his hand had felt under his own while they were sketching the blueprint. And against all his believes and the plans he had for Minhyuk to give him a hard time during the process of work on his masterpiece, he reached out for his hand to take the pain away from him.

 

_“I have to go.”_ were the words that appeared on the paper before Hyungwon stepped away from Minhyuk. His eyes still remained on the artist for a short while, wondering, like he was looking at an unsolvable puzzle and even though he wasn’t staying with Minhyuk all the time, he was able to watch him. Not just that, as they seemed to be connected, had created a rare bond that followed only its own rules and neither of them knew nor understood them.

 

Minhyuk looked down on his hands in confusion as he felt that the pain that had made his fingers shaking was gone all of a sudden. He placed the clay on the desk and tried to move every single one of his fingers just to come to the conclusion that he was indeed pain-free. The Kinesio Tape he had wrapped around his fingers earlier was covered with a white layer from the clay and no sooner then he read the words of the demon he got up from his chair.

 

“Thank you! And I’m sorry.” he said not knowing if the demon was already gone or still with him. Yes, he knew he had to stop with the excuses and apologizing - especially to some green ugly kobold from hell, as he still tried to picture him.

 

“I don’t know why you’re doing this and maybe I’m annoying you with my thoughts but I just don’t know what else to do. This is all so fucked up and I…”

 

Before he could finish his sentence a new message appeared on the paper of the sketchbook.

 

_“Focus on your work that’s all I want to see as your invisible stalker.”_

 

Really? Was this demon really making a joke? Minhyuk gawked at the handwriting incredulously, too confused to laugh or show any kind of suitable reaction - if there even was anything like a suitable reaction for a cruel, soul-eating demon making a joke.

 

_“Where would you want to go if you could go anywhere? Just think about it until next time.”_

 

“When is next time?” Minhyuk asked but the sketchbook remained without an answer and radio silence returned over the place. Slowly he sank down on his chair again, leaning back and looking up to the windows at the ceiling. Pure and warm sunlight had been breaking through the heavy dark clouds, sending the rain away, telling it to rest for a bit and with that in mind, Minhyuk closed his eyes for a moment.

 

If he could go anywhere? If he could see anything this world had to offer what would he wanted to see? He had to think about it especially with regard that his life had an expiration date as soon as he would finish his masterpiece. Since he didn’t know when he was going to die, if he was able to present his work on an exhibition like the Devil had shown him or if he was dying the moment he laid eyes on the finished piece of art, time was a luxury Minhyuk must not waste anymore.

 

What could he wish for?

 

_Freedom._

 

He had to accept that he was facing an afterlife full of torture and no matter how repulsive the world was he was living in now, Minhyuk still had a choice. He was still alive, could still feel the warmth of the sun caressing his skin, could still _breathe_.

 

It wasn’t the big cities Minhyuk wanted to see but the small things, maybe walking through a field of high grass, feeling the wind and the soft grass between his fingers or standing on a lonely beach in the middle of the night, looking up at the moonlight while he could listen to the songs and tales of freedom the waves were telling him.  
  
  
  
As he closed his eyes he saw the face of the man in front of him, clearly and unadulterated, like he would be able to feel the warmth of his fine skin when he was reaching out for him.

 

What did his heart desire the most in this world?

 

_Drowning into your eyes._

 

Minhyuk wanted to get swallowed by those eyes, sinking down deeper and deeper into the calm ocean, while the chaos of the world and the harsh waves, the storm on the surface remained just a small echo far far away in the distance, no louder than a whisper. He imagined sinking deeper into the ocean, looking up to see the sunlight casting it’s beams of light softly at the surface, communicating and dancing with the waves. And as he closed his eyes in his imagination to enjoy the comfortable silence surrounding him, Minhyuk felt a warm soft touch on his cheek, soft fingers caressing his smooth skin, filling him up with a sensation he had never felt before.

 

There was no sign of fear roaring through his body, alarming him that he was in danger, so Minhyuk kept his eyes closed, sinking deeper into the feeling of his weightless body floating in the ocean while another body was taking him closer. Minhyuk blindly wrapped his arms around the stranger as he felt soft and warm lips on his own, lips so full and warm, kissing him so slowly and tenderly that he couldn’t compare it to anything else he had ever felt before.  
  
  
  
He felt so hollow, his mind empty but his body wide awake, ready to receive every sensation it was getting. And they kissed so long, so intensely, as if the two pairs of lips were meant to taste and connect with each other. Kissing those lips was so simple and easy like breathing like natural reflex Minhyuk had not to think about and this warm feeling of being close to someone, to someone who kissed him with so much passion and devotion was like a warm embrace for his aching soul.

 

_Never_. Never did he want to open his eyes again, staying like this forever. Drowning into the warmth of this kiss for all eternity but at some point the other person broke the kiss, leaving him behind only with the silence of the ocean.

 

“No.” Minhyuk gasped startled as he opened his eyes again, finding himself not in the silence of the ocean but inside his atelier, looking around in confusion as he got aware of the tears in his eyes. He blinked them away, rubbing over his eyes with the back of his hand because his fingers were still covered with clay. Why was he crying? And why was his heart aching so much as he tried to recall that breathtaking kiss his mind had just created for him? With slow and circular movements Minhyuk rubbed over his chest, leaving behind white stains from the clay on his hand.

 

He didn’t want to live his last days in fear, not in a state of shock and regret and maybe it was absurd to think that this demon that was watching over him could assist him with that but at this point, he shouldn’t limit his mind on things was were impossible. Maybe it was impossible for him to be a part of this world and he had to say goodbye to the life he used to know but there were still options for him only if he was able to find out what his heart really desired. Minhyuk looked at the branch of peach blossoms that were watching over him and for a moment he saw the man with the blue eyes placing the branch on the table in front of him as in a blurred fever dream.

 

_The only thing I desire is..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos and comments are always welcome! (seriously we're very thirsty for your comments :DDD)
> 
> find us on twitter:
> 
> @trashstax   
> @crimson_chou


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the most beautiful thing is the most poisonous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meaning of Kihyun's mark: The Fleur-de-Lis symbolizes the holy trinity and the connecting between god an evil 
> 
> The entire chapter is mostly about Kihyun and the dynamic of KiHo and a special gift for Michaela ❤️

The Devil wanted to be in control, enjoyed the attention he got from the world of the living that accused him to be the spawn of evil and without him, there’d be peace on earth. Being hated by humans and worshipped by certain groups of them at the same time, being feared by his own creations was all Kihyun knew for thousands of years now. But there was a time without all the darkness, a time where his name was Lucifer, a time where white feathered wings decorated his back and his beauty was far beyond anything anyone had ever seen. He was breathtakingly beautiful and loved by everyone, he was simply perfect, he was  _ light _ . 

 

In heaven, they had lived in peace and harmony, enjoyed the beauty of the arts, music and the beauty of nature, all in the glory and warmth of the light for ions. He was obedient towards his father, fair amongst the other angels and did justice to his position as the  _ Morning Star _ . They all knew that something else co-existed with them: The Darkness. It was an unknown place, none of them had ever had to face, although, myths had spread and romanticized poetry and songs were written about it. The unknown was fascinating and dangerous, something one never wanted to face but at the same time something you wanted to take a glimpse of.  

 

There was nothing he ever had to fear, nothing he ever had to lose but then that one day came that God started to work a new task: Creating a new solar system, including a planet they would call Earth out of a rotating cloud of interstellar that would exist in the darkness but was filled with life and new creations. It wasn’t alarming for Lucifer at the beginning so he helped his father to reign over the kingdom of heaven. All angels were perfect when they were created, flawless beings but Lucifer was shining brighter than any other angel, and he enjoyed the attention and the praising of others. At first, he was equal amongst all of them even though his glory was far beyond, the reason was simply that angels couldn’t see themselves as extraordinary beings and there was no need for jealousy or pride. 

 

But then one day something odd started to happen and he heard a voice, a mere whisper so quiet he had to hold his breath so it was audible, though he couldn’t understand what it said and he asked his brothers and sisters but they weren’t able to hear anything out of the ordinary. There was no need to be worried about it, Lucifer decided and continued the tasks, his father had given him, with great care. 

 

Nothing changed for some time but something started to spread inside his system, some kind of disease that crept through his veins and made him become aware of his own appearance and beauty. One day he felt something was different, the body God had given him felt different and he became fascinated by just looking at his own hands. Hands so soft, with ten delicate and skillful fingers attached to it, that could elicit the most tranquil sounds of an angelic harp. Lucifer couldn’t stop to stare at these beautiful hands, at these fingers dancing over the strings, liquid like water running through the lake in the garden of Eden. 

 

He started to explore his body with these hands when he was alone, protected from the eyes of others, let them wander over his bare feet, over the hard arch of his ankles and slowly up to his calves, his bony knees, and muscular but slim thighs. He touched his buttocks, his sex, the bones of his hips and the muscles on his stomach and went further up to his chest, his arms and ultimately his face. And he felt it, his own beauty that was taking his breath away. His features felt sharp, his skin so soft and flawless, his cheeks felt a little puffy when he was smiling and his hair was as smooth as the silk-like robes they were wearing. 

 

At first, he was taken aback, frightened by this discovery and these new unknown feelings that filled him and he kept it to himself, didn’t talk to anybody about it even if he wanted to ask his father for guidance. Nothing like mirrors existed in heaven since it simply wasn’t necessary. All of them were perfect creations, all of them equal and creations of love and harmony. But Lucifer couldn’t forget how it felt to touch himself, how his face had felt and how beautiful he was that other angels started to appear lower and much uglier, yes,  _ unworthy _ to step into his own glory. 

 

Then the day came. The day he met  _ her. _ He couldn’t believe his eyes when he discovered a golden key inside his chamber and again his first impulse was to run straight to his father to beg him for help, telling him that something was off - but he didn’t. The disease of his mind wouldn’t let him and so he started to wander around when no one was watching, searching for the door the key belonged to. It didn’t look like an angelic key, it didn’t even look real at first sight, more like a bright star, a fragment of the universe but at the same time so different. No matter where he looked for the suitable door, Lucifer was unable to find it and he came to realize that he had to think outside the box, was convinced that the door for the key must be hidden from the eyes of the angels and that behind this door would lay something forbidden, something  _ new _ . 

 

Back alone in his chambers, exhausted from his quest, he looked at the key inside his hand, standing in the middle of the room as he heard the whispers again, louder and more clearly this time. He scanned his surroundings in confusion and fear, finding nothing but the silence that filled the air. 

 

_ “Open up your heart.” _

 

That’s what the voice had whispered to him. His heart? Was this the key to his heart? Lucifer observed the key once again, more closely this time. The end of the handle was shaped like a Fleur-de-Lis and it didn’t feel like something unholy to him as he slowly, and with shaking hands, placed the key on his chest. A cold white light started to spread out from his chest, paralyzing his body as the key vanished inside it, forcing him down on his knees, swallowing him whole as his wings wrapped themselves around him like a cocoon. 

 

Awaken by a soft touch on his face, he’d never felt before, he slowly opened his eyes. It didn’t feel like the touch of an angel nor like the warm embrace God provided for his creations. The only thing Lucifer could compare this touch too was the way he had touched his body when he was all on his own, a worshipping touch, full of adoration and care. Yes, maybe even with a hint of desire to get fully swallowed by this unimaginable beauty he was.

 

He didn’t know what he had thought he would see when he opened his eyes. His father? Another Archangel? Whatever it was, clearly none of these things were the case because he simply saw  _ nothing _ . There was just darkness surrounding him, something he had never seen before with his own two eyes. Heaven was bright and everything was just soft and pure but the darkness felt cold, although in a very indescribable way comforting, like this was the place where his heart truly belonged. 

 

His heart. Lucifer looked down on himself, he was naked and couldn’t feel any trace of the weight of his wings on his back, neither did he feel the additional muscles that were needed for him to control them. He was just standing there, stripped away from the being he used to know, he used to be, bare and helpless - a  _ nobody _ . An unknown creature he didn’t recognize in a body that wasn’t his own. But not only had the nature of his existence changed, but there was also something else attached to his body. The Fleur-de-Lis was now engraved into his skin, right above his heart. Attached to him not like a tattoo, or a nasty scar destroying his flawless skin but more like a unique birthmark. What did it mean and what was going on? Was he banned from heaven because of this slight feeling of pride? Because he had started to become really aware of his own magnificence but angels were supposed to be and see each other as equal beings? 

 

No matter where he looked, everything was just tinted in pitch black but then something appeared in front of him and without giving it any second thoughts he knew, he was seeing himself. Since angels weren’t allowed to look at themselves it was a nearly overwhelming experience, incomparable with anything he had seen and felt before. A silent gasp left his lips as he startled a few steps back, his legs felt weak like his whole body was in awe of that person that had materialized before him - quickly coming to realize that he was indeed in awe of himself. 

 

This image of Lucifer was simply looking at him, seemed to wait for a certain kind of reaction and as soon as the angel remained control over the body he was owning, he slowly stepped closer and reached out for this other creature, like a curious child, exploring the unknown, switching off everything that had happened before and not thinking about what was going to happen next. It was just this moment and this moment only he was experiencing to its fullest. 

 

His fingertips carefully touched the other beings cheek, surprised that it felt, in fact, warm under his touch, wasn’t cold and distant as he had imagined it to be. The skin felt just like his own and the being started to mirror his movements and caressed over Lucifer’s cheek full of adoration, full of care, love, and pride. He was so utterly beautiful,  _ yes _ , he would say he was the most stunning being his father had ever created. 

 

_ “They should love you, worship you because even God fails to shine in your glory.” _ The being said and reached out to cup his face with both hands and everything Lucifer could do was stare inside its eyes - his own eyes - that were shining so bright like a nebular storm, sprinkled with stars and bright colors he had never seen before. He felt like he was flying on a cloud of tranquility, unable to question that the voice that was speaking with him, sounded feminine and not like his own, though, even if he had wanted to he couldn’t speak, since his throat felt empty, as if there were no necessary organs existing he needed to get the complex process of forming words and create sounds going. 

 

_ “You are the most beautiful being that ever existed, you are the morning star, shining brighter than everything else. You are wondering why you are here? Because you are special. You are chosen to be different because no one else but God has ever seen my kingdom, has ever heard my voice.” _

 

“Who are you?” he formed the question in his mind and it was enough.

 

_ “I’m the Goddess. I’m the Darkness.” _

 

The Darkness, the black, swallowing emptiness his brothers and sisters were romanticizing over but would never be able to see. But Lucifer was special and only he was able to receive her prayer and she opened his eyes, made him see not only his own appearance, his own light, his heart, but a whole new world that was ready for him, to be their ruler - their  _ king _ .

 

_ “Light can’t be without Darkness and you can be and do what others can’t. You are made to be loved and worshipped, Lucifer. You are made to rule over them and bring change. Make them believe, be the key, make them open up their hearts so they are able to see the truth. Only you can do it.” _

 

The longer he stared at his own eyes, the more he lost himself in it, in the interstellar of his own being, so limitless. And he believed that the words of the Darkness were true and he could feel her embrace, her touch all over his body, making him feel so close to the edge of passing out just by making him feel his own greatness. He closed his eyes as he felt the lips of the Darkness, his mirrored self on his own, planting the last seed inside his mind and heart that would grow with every step he did closer to his true purpose. 

 

_ “Show them. Tell them.” _ the voice whispered against his lips, so warm, so intimate like a lover would talk and when he opened his eyes again, Lucifer found himself back in his chambers, as nothing had happened. Although, he felt different, like everything before this significant moment became meaningless, a joke and just a role he was no longer willing to play. His eyes wandered down to his chest, brushing the fabric aside just to found the birthmark of the Fleur-de-Lis was still there on his skin. He became conscious of the muscles that held his wings and he felt something boiling inside of him, so hot and unbearable, threatening to burst his vessel into millions of pieces. 

 

_ Rage _ . Awareness that he was different. That he was  _ better _ than his brothers and sisters and  _ arrogance _ that it was his right to demand the attention of his father. Everyone, even his father should treat him with the respect he deserved, treat him different and worship him because he was not like the others, he was special and chosen. 

 

“I am worth the throne.” Lucifer said to himself with a reassuring smile on his lips, full of self-confidence and pride and it was with this kind of attitude that he went to his father. He wasn’t begging but demanding him to get his full attention, abandon his work on his new toys he called humans, to provide Lucifer with all the love he deserved. 

 

“Father, I became aware of myself, of my beauty that can only be described as grace and bliss of heaven itself, that leaves you unworthy behind, questioning your own existence with running rivers upon your cheeks. You made me perfect and the most beautiful being you ever created, father. I need you to appreciate what you did. I need you to see and worship your work and be thankful for my existence.” he spoke his words with pride, his back straight and strong and without a single doubt that his truth was the only truth but God just looked at him in disappointment, like he had discovered a flaw, a crack on a perfectly smooth surface, right when he had wanted to declare his work as done. 

 

God sent him away, unwilling to hear another word from him, ordering him to continue his tasks and reminding him that they were all the same, they were all one. Lucifer felt betrayed and disappointed like his heart was ripped out of his chest, shattered into millions of small pieces on the floor or like every single feather of his wings had been bloody plucked, piece by piece off their skeleton. He wasn’t willing to accept the pain, wasn’t willing to step back in line to be like anyone else when he knew he was better than them but he was fully aware that his aim to get the throne wasn’t something that could be achieved with words of demands alone. 

 

A strategy was what he needed and furthermore if he wanted to be a leader, a  _ king _ , he needed allies and subordinates willing to follow him, willing to fight and die for him if his father wouldn’t obey and force them to fight a war. The Darkness had mentioned that he would be able to open the hearts of the other angels and if this was truly the case, then this was the next step for him to go. Rage wouldn’t bring him far, he knew that, so he had to talk, plant his own seeds inside the minds of others patiently one by one. Unfortunately, even after some time passed by it weren’t much he could win over for his agenda to change heaven, especially not the other archangels and the ones that followed wanted proof of his power, wanted to really see that he was more than beauty and worth the position of a ruler - worth to be a God. 

 

It became exhausting and he was tired and enraged of talking, being undermined his authority and he didn’t see them questioning their father's behavior, didn’t need to see proof of his splendor. Lucifer had to use his rage to fuel his actions, to push himself over his limits with his goal always in clear sight. So he ordered himself to be patient and made a plan so profound everyone now and every following generation would know what he had done - he would destroy the idyll of heaven by seducing these vulnerable creatures, his father had created, into sin.

 

_ Sin _ . A word he had never come in touch with yet but it suited him like a second skin, embracing him, reassuring him that he was following the right path, that he was close to accepting his reward for all the hard work he had done and it would bring his remaining brothers and sisters around, changing their minds and convince them that he was the only one to follow. 

 

Adam and Eve were the first human beings his father had created and he was treasuring them in the garden of Eden, offering them a life of beauty and richness a limited human mind could never think of under the only condition that they would never eat one of the forbidden fruits of the tree of life. So far they had been obedient - of course, they behaved like everyone else, worshipping God for his power to create, never even thinking about to change anything about their situation. Lucifer couldn’t just approach them in the shape of the archangel he was so he had to look for a suitable creature amongst his father’s creations, something deadly and venomous - a black, hissing snake. 

 

Lucifer used his powers to create a replicate of the snake, using its limited abilities to control its behavior on his terms, leading its movements up to the tree of life he knew Adam and Eve would love to sit under. Sitting inside his quiet chambers, with his own eyes closed he was seeing through the eyes of the snake, waiting for Eve to take her place in the play of his rebellion against God. It didn’t take much to bring this woman to sin, just a few seducing words, promising that if they just take one bite from one of the fruits Adam and Eve could be like God, from an obviously dangerous creature she’d never seen before. He was wondering why his father would create such a weak species such as humans. What was the benefit he was getting out of it? 

 

The moment Eve reached out for one of the forbidden fruits and took a bite, Lucifer opened his eyes and the snake vanished to thin air. He felt so close to his goal, his veins were pumped with pure energy and maybe he couldn’t see it, but his once innocent angelic blue eyes slowly started to change into pure amber. As he stepped out into the garden Eden Lucifer observed the chaos he had created. The angels were in revolt and their father finally had to react to his actions - he banished Adam and Eve from paradise and sent them down to earth, giving them a limited lifespan, making them mortal, leaving them without further instructions what to do.

 

Lucifer stood strong in front of his father without any sign that he was willing to obey or kneel down. No, God should see that he was worth to be praised and worshipped, that he was the light itself - a bright, powerful and everlasting glow. His alleys, still outnumbered the angels that wanted to stop him, stood right beside him when he declared his rebellion against his father. The archangel Michael was the one leading the army of angels, of course. If anything, his brother was always the one right up their father's ass, never questioning his actions, never complaining, never demanding more than he got and he was so disgustingly loyal that Lucifer couldn’t understand why the angels would follow a marionette like he was. 

 

They fought a long exhausting battle and in the end, Lucifer lost it all as his father cast him and his followers out of heaven, without giving them a second chance to ever come back, cutting them off to communicate with heaven at all. But it wasn’t earth they would call their new home, it was a much darker, much more ghostlike place, far away from the sun, far away from the light. The skeleton of his wings and the anger and rage that had eaten up his heart was all that remained when Lucifer got back on his feet to look around in the silent desert of a place that would be known as hell.  _ Fallen _ . They were fallen angels now, their once so pure and innocent grace had changed into pitch black shadow, eating them from the inside out. The noise, the complaints of his weak and stupid followers too annoying, like a high pitch piercing his eardrums so he turned them into dust with a mere snap of his fingers that now he was all alone.

 

“Why did you betray me?” he shouted into the wasteland. “You told me I was special! You told me I would be king. Look what you’ve done!” Lucifer sank down on his knees, at the end of his tether, not knowing what to do, not even knowing who he was anymore. 

 

_ “You were never meant to be the king of heaven. This is your home. This is your kingdom and you are going to be their ruler.”  _ The Goddess' voice echoed in his head and for a moment he only looked up at the sky, that was tinted in red with thick black clouds hovering over him like an omen.

 

_ “You were born to be evil. You are the Devil now.”  _

 

He felt the mark burning on his skin, glowing like a freshly forged iron, felt a new wave of power running through his veins as black feathers started to cover the skeleton of his wings and the blue of his eyes had vanished completely and was exchanged ever since through a glowing amber color. The Devil started to create his kingdom, his new obedient followers called demons and of course the most powerful beings next to him: The princes of hell. There was one amongst them that always reminded him of his form as an archangel:  _ Pride _ , with his clear glowing blue eyes, representing the beginning of his being and the reason he had to fall.  

 

Although, he was now sitting on the throne, had built something out of nothing and was worshipped by the demons - especially his guard dog - he wasn’t satisfied. All the words, all the various kinds of orgies weren’t enough because there was still one thing that remained unreachable: His father didn’t love him the way he deserved it. And now that he was cast out of heaven, he was cut short on options to ever face him again. But there was still one place they could go to - the world of the humans- For whatever reason, the gates between the human world and hell were still passable unlike the gates to heaven, so the Devil was able to send his demons to earth, to spread sins and chaos amongst the human race. He would learn that there were rules when it came to human souls, that they had indeed the chance of redemption, a second chance to enter the gates of heaven and those who wouldn’t be forgiven would fall into his own hands for punishment.  

 

And even after all this time of torture, sickening minds and killings, there was no word from God and up to this day, the Devil never forgot and he never forgave. 

 

Getting his father’s attention was definitely one of the reasons he had set his eyes on Wonho’s soul, but not only because it looked so pure and innocent but also because Wonho played a similar role to him as  _ Pride _ did - he reminded him of a time when he was up in heaven, when he was different. A time when he was shining so bright like the morning star and it was exactly how Wonho’s soul looked like - perfect like the wings of an archangel glowing in the light of God’s grace and unmeasurable love and kindness. Well, if only his father would see that he was better than his other useless brothers and sisters, but no, not even after all this time. And not now that he was having his way with this golden boy of his. It was odd, really. 

 

Kihyun had seduced virgins, nuns, and people that claimed to be pure, besmirching their souls with sin and filth but nothing like this happened to Wonho’s soul, that seemed to just absorb his sinful energy. It had been an easy task to caught his fascination for Kihyun and everything that followed, the kisses, and especially the sex should have lead to some sort of result in form of black stains that grown like a parasite, feeding on its host - but nothing. 

 

There also wasn’t anyone coming for him, because he consumed Wonho’s soul like a drug he couldn’t get enough of. This plan should have had worked. He had kept his watchful eyes on Minhyuk and Wonho for quite some time, pursued their upgrowth, had balanced his options until he had decided the perfect opportunity had come to make a move. Minhyuk’s soul appeared worthless to him, full of sin, damned for a life in hell to get punished for eternity for all it was worth - with or without the contract he had made him sign. So it made him wonder if he might have missed something, a small single detail in the dynamic of these two brothers - especially now that Hyungwon had claimed Minhyuk, made him untouchable until his contract was fulfilled. But why all of a sudden? As  _ Pride _ , it wasn’t necessarily his style to show any kind of mercy nor sympathy for any soul and he had wanted to have his way with Minhyuk, which normally didn’t mean to protect him from any other demon - and the Devil himself. 

 

Never, in all this time Pride had rebelled so offensively against him, had never claimed a soul for his own. There had been smaller incidents but these two brothers started to grow into a serious issue like he had stepped into quicksand or into a field of activated landmines that threatened to explode with only one wrong step, though, he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that he had already made the wrong move and there was no going back. No, it was all going to work out at the end and these were just minor turbulences - but they still left a bitter taste in the Devil’s mouth. 

 

It nagged on Kihyun that he didn’t know what was going on with Hyungwon and Minhyuk, that he could just sit there and wait, working on his own exasperating task of stripping off the blinding glow of Wonho’s soul that wouldn’t fade away. Like Hyungwon, Kihyun had thought about the possibility that these two brothers might be reincarnations of Cain and Abel but Cain was probably wandering around this world, tired of all the unsuccessful efforts to die but unable to do so, since he was punished with immortality. It was simply a dead end, as were the thoughts of Wonho being an angel, he wasn’t, Kihyun would feel it, would smell the scent of an angelic being miles away. 

 

“Kihyunnie, are you okay?” Wonho asked softly and a bit concerned and lowered his violin, right when Kihyun became aware that he was standing on the orchestra stage with him and the pianist, that was also looking at him in confusion. They were surrounded by empty seats waiting for their next time to accommodate a larger audience, but right now only three seats were used from their manager and the directors of the orchestra. Right, he had Wonho made believe that he was a violin player to get close to him and they were about to rehearse their duet of  _ The Devil's Trill Sonata  _ by Giuseppe Tartini he had decided for them to play. 

 

Unlike his believes that Wonho would break, his fingers or mentally, under this piece he didn’t stop pushing through, was working on difficult passages as twice as hard, would refuse to rest until it was done. He was in total control of his fingers, of his muscles and his mind, recording himself on video to check if he could improve further, even if it was just a little bit, knowing very well it would have a huge impact on his play. Kihyun thought it was really admirable to sacrifice anything for a passion, but the violin, the music wasn’t just passion for Wonho, it was his everything, his life, his  _ soul _ and maybe taking the music away from him was the only way to really break him - but not just yet.

 

Another thing they had in common. Kihyun’s strong conviction in his own beauty and pride had expelled him from heaven but he still believed he had done nothing wrong and he had never stopped pushing, was following his path no matter the consequences. He was special, he was different and his father must honor him for that. But staying on earth for so long, playing his role as a violinist was exhausting and time-consuming, the time he was lacking to keep a watchful eye on Hyungwon or his bloodthirsty hellhound pet dog Changkyun. 

 

“Sorry, yes, I’m fine. Let’s continue.” Kihyun said and send a nod over to the pianist as a sign that he could start intoning them, as he had lifted his violin up under his chin. It wasn’t much trouble for him to play the piece, nor did he need all the rehearsals, but he liked to see Wonho play as he couldn’t deny that seeing him flourishing in his element had something magical, was breathtaking. Both of them playing this piece together was like a roller coaster ride, intense and followed its own way of harmony, its own complex rules. It was disturbing, made one's fingers clench into the armrest of the chair, holding their breath until the point they were threatening to suffocate before they would gasp for breath, filling their lungs with air again, relaxing and recovering over the shallow parts of the play before they were left behind with an out of body experience once the piece had finished. Wonho’s face was filled with so many kinds of emotions making it even harder to watch, whereupon Kihyun’s face remained as it was, unapproachable and a perfect, flawless mask, emotionless but so delicate like the porcelain dolls Minhyuk was creating. 

 

The directors, the pianist, and their manager were left behind like they had seen and heard something unimaginable, a ghost maybe, judging by the paleness of their faces. The orchestra was quiet as if a simply breath would have already been too loud, too much distraction to destroy this moment. But after a while of recovery, they applauded, with tears in their eyes and Kihyun offered a smile to Wonho, who looked at him so proudly, so full of joy and new grown confidence for the upcoming sold-out event in front of a big audience and critics. 

 

After their successful rehearsal and empty talks with the directors congratulating them, sharing their hopes and thoughts for the upcoming performance, they went back to Wonho’s place, that was in lack of Minhyuk’s presence for almost three months now. At first, it had been days, but ever since he had packed his things, he had never come back, it was also the last personal encounter Kihyun had alone with him. And no matter how hard he pushed Hyungwon to get back in line, he refused to obey, didn’t even blink or fight back when he was burning him, hurting him with all kinds of instruments of torture, unknown to men, nothing. Kihyun couldn’t just erase him, was he still a part of himself and he only admitted it unwillingly that he had actually no clue of the power that was resting inside of Hyungwon since he was always so quiet, always waiting until Kihyun’s rage had faded away. 

 

Looking inside of Hyungwon’s eyes when he tortured him frightened him, they never gave anything away and the longer one was looking into them the stronger became the feeling of drowning into the ocean. It was the deep unknown that frightened him and it was so similar to the never-ending unknown darkness that had spoken to him once.  _ She _ had never talked to him ever again and his questions remained unanswered, like every human prayer directed to heaven. He fought against the feeling having lost his way, the fear that he had made a step into the wrong direction and had been fooled by his father and wasn’t more than ridicule for his legion of demons at this point. 

 

Of course, Wonho had insisted for them to see his brother, to check on him and to bring him supplies and food that was needed and the slow process of his decay was already visible and written all over his face. Kihyun couldn’t tell what he had seen so far, since the mark behind his ear made it hard for him to come near Minhyuk and impossible when Hyungwon was with him, moreover he was pretty much sure that Hyungwon was keeping most of the horror away from him. Minhyuk kept his brother at a distance too, couldn’t even look him in the eyes for long and most of his attempts to smile at him openly as he had always done, failed. 

 

When the Devil looked at Minhyuk he couldn’t see or sense anything that was worthy enough to protect. His soul was rotten and useless which meant there was no reason for Hyungwon to keep other demons away from him. But there must have been something. Something that didn’t leave a trace behind. Something that was as unknown as the very vastness of space. He dismissed the thought that Hyungwon could be actually in love with this human soul since it was simply ridiculous. A high-ranked demon, a prince of hell would never fall in love with a soul that was unworthy to even face his true form, despite over all these thousands of years had  _ Pride _ never shown any kind of love and affection towards any human, so why would he start now?

 

“Hey, what’s wrong, hm? You seem very distracted today.” Wonho asked in his usual soft voice, wrapping his arms around him from behind to pull him closer to his broad chest, while his full and soft lips placed feathery kisses on the nape of his neck, eliciting a long sigh out of Kihyun.

 

“Nothing in particular. Probably just all the rehearsal.” he lied and placed his hands over Wonho’s, felt the warmth of his soul at his back like he was taking a hot relaxing bath. 

 

Nothing made sense anymore, not Minhyuk, not Hyungwon and especially Wonho didn’t make sense. Even though Kihyun was unable to feel any kind of love for Wonho or anyone else but only for himself it nearly felt like they were supposed to be together, like it was a passionate dance of light and darkness, a natural symbiosis between two different kinds of species that would benefit each other. And they definitely did, not only because the duet with the Devil would catapult Wonho’s career into another dimension but also because fucking with Wonho was incomparable to anything he had ever felt before, made every sexual experience appear downright ridiculous - considering the number of orgies he had had, this could be described as a miracle. 

 

“Can I do something to help you relax?” Wonho whispered, hovering his hot breath over his skin as his lips wandered up over his neck, kissing a spot behind his ear while one of his hands traced over Kihyun’s chest, rubbing his left nipple subtle between his thumb and index finger through his shirt. 

 

“Pretty sure you can.” he purred with a smile on his lips, his eyes were glowing in a bright orange color Wonho wasn’t able to see and leaned his head to the side to offer Wonho’s lips more space. They were standing in the middle of the living room and at this point, there was barely a spot inside Wonho’s apartment they hadn’t had sex, except Minhyuk’s room. Kihyun made sure that every single time they were physical with each other, Wonho was left with the feeling of having been touched by an angel and basically, that’s what he was after all. His original blueprint was still that of an archangel, one of God's most loved and most perfect creatures, that had rebelled against the crown and was drowning human hearts into unholy waters ever since. 

 

“Do you have anything in mind?” He felt Wonho’s teeth softly biting his ear, his tongue licking and his lips nibbling on his earrings, pressing his hips against Kihyun’s small but delicate ass, letting him feel how much he wanted him and it only nourished the Devil’s pride and arrogance. 

 

“Fortunately I do.” he cooed and broke free from Wonho’s grip, just enough so he could turn around to face him, looking at him through his hazel brown eyes he hid his true nature behind. With skillful movements he opened his shirt and started to undress right under Wonho’s eyes, enjoying the increasing lust rising in it and the way he was in awe for him, ready to fall down on his knees, ready to worship him, overwhelmed by his ethereal appearance. 

 

Once he was standing naked in front of Wonho with his already half-hard cock, he let his fingers wander over his broad chest, feeling how it raised and lowered itself under his touch, how irregular Wonho’s breathing had already become. He wasn’t as needy and submissive as his pet Changkyun, but he would do anything and everything to please him and it was the thrill and the high that kept them going.

 

Wonho tried to get rid of the lump in his throat, though it remained at its place, tightened his throat only further, cutting him short of air just by looking at Kihyun’s naked body, just by feeling his light sensual touch on his chest. How much he wanted to reach out and kiss him, sank down with him on the couch to make sweet love to him passionately and slow but his body was as stiff as the hard-on growing under his pants, pressing against the tight fabric of his jeans, pleading to get freed. 

 

“Kihyunnie.” he heard Wonho say under his breath, watching him sinking down on the couch, making himself comfortable in the soft pillows behind him, spreading his legs welcoming for him. 

 

“Come here and help me relax.” He carefully watched Wonho sinking down on his knees between his legs, feeling his warm hands on his tights, wandering up over his smooth skin in slow circular movements, like he was trying to absorb his entire being. Wonho’s mind always felt like he was walking through a world of tranquility when he was intimate with Kihyun and his only duty was for him to make each other feel good, to make their bodies connect until they would burn out. 

 

Wonho leaned down to place hot kisses on Kihyun’s chest, caressing over the mark on his skin, covering his lips over his right nipple, swirling his wet tongue around it while his fingers pinched and teased the left one with sensual care, making Kihyun already gasp in excitement. He loved it, the way Wonho was touching his body like every time was the first time for him, like he couldn’t get enough of feeling him under his hands, tasting him under his tongue and it was exactly the way Kihyun wanted it to be. It was the way he deserved it, having a man adoring him, unable to get enough or to take his eyes off of him. 

 

His hands caressed over Wonho’s broad muscular shoulders and came to hold in his blonde hair, the further down he felt his lips moving, over his stomach, to his hip bones and down to his inner thighs, skipping his cock that was already waiting to get swallowed by his perfect warm mouth. But he loved it, liked how the tension was building between them, loved that Wonho was obeying and willing to give him what he needed - not that he had much of a choice in the manipulative hands of the Devil. 

 

“More.” Kihyun let out a pleading moan as Wonho’s wet tongue traced over one of his balls, taking it into his mouth to suck on it with great pleasure before he finally continued his task and flattened his tongue to give Kihyun’s cock a long lick from the base all up to its tip. 

 

He could feel Wonho’s hot breath hovering over the tip, his hands still kneading his thighs, pressing all the right points that would bring his body to shiver in mere anticipation. It didn’t take long for Wonho to close his lips around his glans, gently sucking on it a few times before he pressed his perfect wet tongue against the slit of his cock, making Kihyun moan out loud and grabbing his hair tighter, trying to push him down to feel more of his mouth, more of him. But Wonho took his sweet time with him, placed one of his hands around him, giving him a few slow strokes by moving it from the base all the way up to the tip, where he was still busy pleasuring him with his tongue. 

 

It was out of the question that Wonho’s fingers were the only thing he could use very well, no, the way he was using his tongue around his cock was just too good to be true and Kihyun was already arching his back, needed him to take him all the way into his mouth. 

 

“Please, Wonho.” he nearly pleaded, not that he needed to, to get what he wanted but because he knew perfectly well that Wonho had a weak spot for him begging for more, telling him how good he was. And like a spell, it also worked this time and Wonho took him into his mouth, looking up at him to see the pleasure sparkling in his eyes. Kihyun bit down his bottom lip watching Wonho, how he moved his head up and down, pressing his flattened tongue against the sensible underside of his cock, leaving him sinking deeper into the pillows panting, moaning his name. 

 

Wonho might give the impression that he was just sweet and pure and only married to his music but there was nothing left of it once they were alone and his entire body became possessed by desire and passion until it was almost too much. He was like a marvelous, cruel monster, driven by his animalistic needs and Kihyun was unable to resist the lures being played to him. Especially not, when his soul was burning him, cutting his mind like sharp razor blades of light would cut into the dust of darkness, whereas the hovering, thick fog was nestling around the blades like a venomous snake.

 

He grabbed him on his hips, pulling him further to the edge of the couch as he took him all the way into his exquisite mouth so that Kihyun could feel the back of his throat, that was lacking any kind of gag reflex, on his tip. His thighs tightened and he placed one of his legs over Wonho’s shoulders, his breath was quickening in his chest and the grip in Wonho’s hair became harder with every minute. And as if it hadn’t been enough, Wonho started to use his thumb to rub it over his entrance in a slow circular motion, making him going crazy, showing Kihyun what he wanted - what they both wanted and needed.

 

Kihyun could feel his climax building in his stomach, running him over like an inferno as his body was quivering, trying to fight against it, to make the sensation last just a bit longer. But he knew it would be even better if he waited, so he made Wonho pause his actions, releasing his cock with a deliciously obscene sound, looking so perfect with his lips glistening and the desire reflecting in his eyes that made him look like a hungry beast, ready to hunt him down. 

 

Although, Wonho didn’t get up right away just gave him a slight grin before he pressed his lips against his heated skin again, placing feverish kisses on Kihyun’s thigh, that was still resting over his shoulder, leaving sweet bite marks on his skin, new ones, refreshing the marks he had already left there. And Kihyun only sank deeper into the pillows, gasping over the boldness of Wonho’s actions but unwilling to prevent them from happening as it only filled him up with more need but also pride that this man wasn’t able to take his hands off him. 

 

Kihyun bit down his lower lip as Wonho finally settled down on his entrance, licking it without hesitation, more in an urgent state of mind to taste him, and Kihyun could only tug on his hair harder, moaning his name louder and pushing his hips forward to feel more of his tongue penetrating his entrance, licking along the rim of his muscles building up a new wave of rush running through his veins. And he was so good, his tongue as skillful as his fingers, teasing him, holding him right there on the edge, sucking and licking his sinful hole, like it was the holiest place. He withdrew his mouth a short while after, leaving Kihyun behind in frustration and need, taking his sweet time to leave a trace of kisses on his body, as he moved further up, letting Kihyun’s leg easily slide off his shoulder in the process.

 

Wonho got up on his knees to lean over him, kissing Kihyun’s lips passionately but impatient, unwilling to wait any longer to disgrace Kihyun’s perfect body, that seemed to be made for seduction and lust only. They shared the bitter taste of Kihyun’s pre-cum with their tongues, dancing, fighting with each other while Kihyun busied his fingers with opening the button and zipper of Wonho’s jeans, finally freeing his hard throbbing cock which made its owner release a shaky moan against Kihyun’s lips. 

 

“I can’t wait to feel you inside me.” Kihyun whispered into his ear in a seducing manner, brushing his lips over Wonho’s cheek, biting down on his lower lip and took Wonho’s cock in one of his hands, so perfectly big and with a nice shape, that it was nearly a shame he was just using it to pleasure the Devil himself. But to be honest, why should he waste his time with filthy unthankful human beings when he could have a supernatural being, an archangel, the Devil? Sure, Wonho didn’t need to know about that minor detail though it brought great satisfaction for Kihyun as he was always aiming for the best.

 

“Kihyunnie.” he murmured against his lips, his arms placed on both sides of Kihyun’s head to keep his balance as he looked down between their bodies, watching his small smooth hand moving up and down on his cock, always all the way over his shaft and up to the tip where he slowly traced his thumb around it, making him leak even more pre-cum. Wonho couldn’t wait any longer and grabbed the package of lube out of the pocket of his jeans, a constant companion since he had met Kihyun and needed to be prepared for all eventualities. 

 

For whatever reason, Kihyun never needed many preparations and seemed to be always ready to take him in, always so smooth, always so wet and welcoming that it was leaving Wonho breathless every single time. His lips too, always so sweet, so pink and forbidden at the same time, making his head spinning and every other thought vanish so that there was nothing left but the desire to be with him, to fuck him senseless and to fill him up entirely. 

 

Kihyun took the lube out of Wonho’s hand to rip it open and warm it up carefully between his small hands before he placed them around his cock once again, making it slick and a perfect weapon for their lust, while their lips met again over and over in restless, wet kisses. It didn’t take long for Wonho to line himself up with Kihyun’s entrance, biting down on his lower lip as he pushed his cock deep inside of him in one fluid motion, already so familiar, rehearsed like a musical piece that only produced the most heavenly sounds.

 

He felt Kihyun’s legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him even closer, even deeper inside of him, like he was only complete feeling him, like he would die without him - except that he couldn’t just die but maybe in a way he lost himself every time they were together a bit more, getting absorbed by the glowing of Wonho’s soul, whose light he wasn’t able to dim. His shadows, the fog of the darkness and sin could only surround him, touch the surface but never reach out to the core and it felt like a tight embrace of infinite glory when Kihyun was looking inside of Wonho’s eyes while he started to thrust his thick marvelous cock inside of him. He looked like sin, like the perfect sin even the Devil, the master of sins and damnation couldn’t withstand no matter how much he tried. More precisely, if he would even try, but he didn’t, if he couldn’t own Wonho then no one ever should. 

 

Wonho was the most precious being he’d ever seen walking the earth, like an angel but not quite and the Devil had wanted to use him, to shadow his light and lure him into sin. Everything had been so easy, maybe too easy and too good to be true. Instead of dimming Wonho’s light he felt his veins were slowly filled with poison like he had touched the most valuable artifact just to get stung by a venomous needle that had been prepared to secure it from the filthy hands of thieves. Kihyun wanted to believe he was in control, that there was nothing in this world and further that could ever bring him down on his knees, could ever defeat him and Wonho was his toy, his perfect servant for his pleasure. 

 

Kihyun’s hole was smooth, taking Wonho’s cock in with ease, welcoming him, sucking him in with every hard thrust. They built a steady rhythm within the blink of an eye like clockwork and Kihyun could feel that Wonho was already about to lose himself, could feel him throbbing inside of him, fucking him faster, pushing harder, unable to get enough of the sensation that filled his mind. His lips all over Kihyun’s body, breaking its perfect white skin with his teeth, tasting the salty flavor on his neck and his aesthetically shaped collarbones, that looked like they were chiseled into the finest marble. And Kihyun is only a moaning mess under him, casting his head deeper into the pillows, letting his fingers trace over Wonho’s chest that was still covered with the disturbing layer of fabric of his shirt.

 

The Devil could feel the rush, the poison creeping through every corner of his being, to the tips of his fingers he was now tugging into Wonho’s shirt, down his spine he was aching for Wonho’s cock to fuck him high up to the sky, aiming for das sweet spot inside of him, driving him faster to the edge of his climax. Then his eyes fluttered open and for a brief moment the amber color in his eyes was back, like a warning, transforming him into a wild dangerous predator, that had been irritated too much, pushed too much and was ready to jump right into a counterattack, but gladly Wonho wasn’t in the right state of mind to even notice.

 

“Sit down.” Kihyun had grabbed the nape of Wonho’s neck, pulled him up to whisper the words hoarsely and breathless against his red swollen lips. And of course, Wonho did as he’d been told and slid completely out of him, getting up from the floor to sit down on the couch with Kihyun straddling his lap just moments later. Arousal was flickering inside his eyes like a burning candle as Kihyun got rid of Wonho’s shirt, throwing it aside like a piece of trash, unworthy to even give it another thought. He let his slim fingers wander over Wonho’s broad chest, his muscles so perfectly built and shaped, and his warm skin nuzzling against his fingertips, while he kissed Wonho’s lips fiercely.

 

Wonho reached out to give his own cock a few slow tugs, holding it steady so Kihyun could easily sink down on him again and he felt like he was burning inside his perfect smooth heat, eliciting a breathy moan out of them. He traced his hands over Kihyun’s thighs and the small of his back, holding him close as Kihyun started to roll his hips nice and slow at first, sliding himself up and down on Wonho’s hard cock dragging all the air out of his lungs and even more when he moved faster, squeezing his muscles around him, bouncing harder down on him.

 

Every time they were together Wonho felt in a state between life and death, unable to think about anything else but the perfect velvety feeling of being one with Kihyun. It was like a dream, a surreal vision and opened out into an explosion and the total collapse of two worlds when Kihyun’s hand pressed against his chest, right above his heart, making his head spin, his vision fading and only his body react. His hands wandered down on Kihyun’s body in trance, resting on his hips, massaging his thumbs over his hip bones, starting to rock him up and down on his cock, thrusting harder, mercilessly into him as his mind was dragged into the stars and the ringing in his ears became louder. He was unaware that the Devil was getting so high on his light, was pressing his hand harder against Wonho’s soul. And it hurt so good, felt like he was bathing in a river of eternal fire, burning the feathers of his black wings off its skeleton and Kihyun let himself getting dragged away by the feelings of sheer endless lust, of the pain and the pleasure that was driving them both over the edge.

 

Kihyun let out a silent cry, withdrawing his hand from Wonho’s chest, grabbing his jaw instead, forcing him to look at him as he leaned forward so that their foreheads were touching, a nearly sweet gesture, while he was still moving his hips even after they had climaxed together. Wonho had filled him up so perfectly, was still so deep inside of him, panting against his lips, his arms wrapped tightly around his petite frame, holding him close like a treasure. It was still glowing so bright, Wonho’s soul, that it nearly hurt the Devil’s eyes, and he couldn’t help but to feel the floor was sliding out under him, making him fall while the world was rearranging itself, forming new rules and orders he wasn’t aware of.

 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this and the roles they played weren’t as clear as the Devil had wanted them to be. Kiyhun was the hunter and Wonho was the fox, the prey, but he couldn’t be sure about that anymore. The feeling had been there from the very beginning, right before they had kissed for the first time, Kihyun had felt it, how forbidden it was, the excitement running through his mind, clouding it. He was a leech feeding from his light, unable to stop and ignorant enough to take a step back every time he felt his own grace slipping through his fingers.  And yet, his homicidal mission continued. 

 

“You’re so perfect, Kihyunnie.” Wonho whispered sweet nothings against his lips, kissing them so softly, praising them, making them curl into a satisfied smile. This was what he deserved, full and uncompromised attention his father had refused to give him and he was playing him ever since, kept him waiting and ignored all his affords, all these souls he drove into madness, into sin and collected them for his own dark kingdom of hell. 

 

Kihyun leaned down for another slow kiss before a low angry growl was audible from right behind the couch, at least it was for the Devil and Wonho seemed unaffected by it, showed no signs of distraction. With a simple snap of his fingers, Kihyun froze the time and got up from Wonho’s lap so he could move his attention to the upset beast that lingered in the shadows, dragging the bestial smell of blood and death with it.

 

“I should kill him, so you finally come back, master.” Changkyun’s black painted long nails traced over Wonho’s cheek, looking hateful down on him, fully aware that he would face punishment if he would only leave a scratch on him. 

 

“I don’t tolerate your disobedience.” Kihyun simply stated, his voice was cold, piercing like ice and his eyes were back to its glowing amber color, warning Changkyun to not even think about making one wrong move. 

 

“You tolerate Pride protecting this filthy soul. There are whispers,” Changkyun traced his nails down Wonho’s neck, feeling the pulse of his veins, sniffing on him to get a sense for the delicious blood that was running through it. “The demons are in fear, unguided because you’re wasting your time with your new toy.” 

 

Kihyun remained calm, still standing fully naked in front of his pet dog, although the sour note Changkyun was striking wasn’t much to his liking, especially not when he was looking straight at him and pinched the tip of his sharp claws into Wonho’s skin, leaving not a bigger mark like a mosquito bite but enough damage to enrage the devil.

 

Within the blink of an eye, Changkyun found himself pressed against the floor, a hand pressing down his face, peeling off the skin under the unbearable heat of his touch. He had faced it once, the demands of his followers in heaven, longing for prove, unable to trust him unconditionally and he wouldn’t allow it.

 

“Do you want to lead a rebellion against me? Go ahead, but you are just a filthy stupid pet, tearing everyone apart as it pleases. And why? Because  _ I  _ let you. I gave you the privilege to do so, but it’s time for you to go back into the hole where you came from.” Kihyun’s voice was low, full of anger and authority, showing the true nature of his being. There was so much fear inside of Changkyun’s eyes, regret and a hint of incomprehension as he stared at him, whimpering and whining like a kicked dog. 

 

“They… they are broken.” was everything Changkyun responded in an anxious tone, shivering as the gates of hell opened up beneath him and it took the Devil by surprise as he couldn’t understand at first what exactly he was referring to. 

 

“Your wings.” Changkyun got swallowed by the gates of hell as Kihyun let go of his face, leaving him behind in the dimmed light in the living room, his own breathing so hard and dragging all of a sudden as he turned his face around, finally becoming aware of the damage that had been done. 

 

The Devil remained kneeling on the floor in shock, black feathers were sprawled around his feet and the skeleton of his wings was visible, merely covered anymore. He had felt it, the poison, the drug running through his system but only now, he became fully aware of the damage that had been done. Like in old times, when the sickness of the darkness had clouded his mind, he had fallen into a much more dangerous state, where he seemed to destroy himself with his own greed. 

 

_ I have been tricked.  _

   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all your kudos so far! we already reached 40k now, the most I've ever written. Thank you for staying so long! 
> 
>    
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/crimson_chou)
> 
> [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/shadyhon)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bleeding heart of a demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just sad and heartbreaking.   
> I recommend sad music (such as la Belle Époche by Audiomachine) and tissues :D

Minhyuk had moved on with the work for the prototype of his doll, kneading the clay, sculpting the limbs, smoothing every little unevenness to make its surface even and flawless. He was always focused and determined - but also hurt. 

 

Days and then weeks had passed since he had started to work on his prototype since he had left Wonho behind in their shared apartment and though he wanted to cry and wanted to feel bad about it, Minhyuk felt at ease, even if the devil stayed at his brother’s side. Whenever Wonho stopped by the atelier to bring him supplies or just to eat with him and talk to him, Minhyuk was relieved that his brother was fine. He didn’t get the impression that he was harmed in any way, that he was losing himself piece by piece like Minhyuk did. But why did the devil want Wonho when he wasn’t harming him? He had thought he wanted him for his pure soul and maybe that was still the case or maybe it wasn’t. 

 

The upcoming performance and the long practice hours were the only things Wonho was talking about. It wasn’t something new, this was his brother like he’d always been. Passionate and committed to the music and his violin only. He had even shown Minhyuk the videos of one or two practice sessions and just listening to it had filled his eyes with tears. Out of all the pieces Wonho had ever played in his life, this one was something special, every note was reaching out to the heart of the listener and not just that, seeing the emotion in Wonho’s face felt like breaking into pieces, leaving your body and getting willingly carried away into the unknown. And not just that, the piece demanded a lot of the person who played it and Minhyuk was sure that it had been Kihyun’s idea to pick this certain piece for the concert. Although watching Kihyun’s reactions, it appeared he had had other plans for Wonho, but his brother was dancing around a high cliff without losing his balance. 

 

The young artist also had learned that the devil had his own problems and limitations and that he couldn’t overstep a certain line as long as Minhyuk’s invisible demon was staying by his side. He still didn’t know why, but both, Wonho and Minhyuk, seemed to give him a hard time. But wasn’t the devil, the puppeteer, and the demons his henchmen? So why should Hyungwon mean a distraction for him, when he was just a servant and an observer as he had claimed to be? Of course, Minhyuk had asked him about it, but the written answer of the demon had told him anything and nothing at all.

 

_ “We are one and we are apart.” _

 

Not even if he would have had asked him about the rankings and structures of hell, he would have understood the answer, so Minhyuk didn’t dig any deeper for his own good. And it probably would have been a story unsuitable for a short human life and even more for an already dead man, waiting for his time to come. Little did he know that it was  _ Pride _ , a true prince watching over him with his eyes so hypnotizing like shining sapphires.

 

At least his brother appeared to be safe but being with him felt distant, felt like he wasn't his brother anymore he used to love and desire. Maybe he wasn't even a member of his family anymore, a friend, and maybe all he would be in the end was someone he used to know. A familiar face but without the attached memory of feelings and shared moments of happiness. But Minhyuk thought it was okay. He couldn't stop the process he had set in motion and had made his peace with it.

 

There were other changes Minhyuk had noticed in his life as well, small but also big and significant ones. Things he couldn't make his peace with. Things that would have driven him mad if the demon wouldn’t have been by his side, shielding his eyes and ears from the terror lingering in the shadows. The feeling of fear was slowly growing, became an unpleasant companion whenever he set foot outside the atelier. His first encounter with the shadows and the whispers had been terrifying enough and the memory of the blood on his hands that day was still fresh, was still sticking on his skin even though it wasn’t visible, it was there, Minhyuk knew it was.

 

Whenever he went outside, his vision shifted between reality and this cold grey world of hushed whispers, becoming louder and more clearly every time, it was like interfering noises, the roaring of a broken record in the silence. And still he couldn’t decipher the words they were saying, nor could he spot facial expressions behind the wavering blank grey masks where there faces should have been. The episodes were short, more like a series of photographs taken shortly after another but unlike the first time, the faceless creatures in the dark didn’t come for him. Minhyuk couldn’t feel them coming close to him, he just felt them looking, surrounding him like he had some kind of infectious disease. 

 

“Are you with me?” Minhyuk had asked the demon, laying on his back on the wooden floor of the atelier at night only dimly lit by two stand lamps, as it was the only thing left to do that kept him grounded, staring up out of the ceiling windows into the pitch-black sky, before he had taken a look at the sketchbook. 

 

_ “Always.” _

 

He couldn’t have known that the demon was sitting next to him every single time he was shaking in fear, crying himself into his sleep on the old inconvenient couch. He couldn’t have known but Minhyuk was certain he was with him when he needed him, even though he rarely could feel his touches. Could never see him. The feeling of being watched by Hyungwon wasn’t as terrifying as the feeling of being watched by countless faceless monsters - or being constantly watched by the devil himself. It was also different from the judgemental eyes of society, looking down on him full of pity and disgust because in their eyes he was nothing. 

 

And maybe he was nothing and his work was worth nothing and there would be nothing left of him, but there was Hyungwon. He wasn’t alone. Never. Some might have said that Minhyuk was a fool believing that this demon by his side wasn’t just playing with him, laughing about his insignificant life while sugarcoating his evil nature with kindness. However, Minhyuk thought it was okay because he couldn’t tell for sure and the way Hyungwon was taking care of him felt like far more than pity. Felt more like a simple arrangement.

 

The way he looked at Shownu’s paintings and his success was another thing that had changed. Minhyuk had been aware that he wouldn’t be all by himself inside the atelier during the whole process and that he was still sharing this workspace with Shownu. Of course, they chatted like friends and Shownu showed great interest in his work, in the prototype of the doll Minhyuk was building and he had seemed to be awestruck by the pencil portrait and the blueprint of it. He had observed the limbs of the doll, had asked him about the project and they had discussed it.

 

It had been the same reaction Wonho had shown when he had seen the drawing for the first time and Minhyuk was wondering how huge the impact and the impression of the finished doll would be. They hadn’t seen what he had seen, the porcelain skin and eyes so deep blue and full of treasures and mysteries like the ocean. As always, Minhyuk had to bend the truth because it was too unreal, too far away to grasp for a bystander who couldn’t see what he saw, couldn’t feel what he felt. 

 

“You’re working so hard. I’m sure this is going to be a masterpiece and one of a kind.” Shownu had said, softly pressing his shoulder. 

 

 

_ What bliss it must be not knowing about the real existence of demons and hell and the devil. _

 

 

Minhyuk had thought as Shownu had no idea that the devil was walking in and out of their atelier or that Minhyuk had an invisible demon by his side he was communicating with through a sketchbook and the only visible evidence of him was the branch of bright peach blossoms in a water jar at the far end of Minhyuk’s desk. The blossoms never seem to wither, seem to be as bright and perfect like the first day they had appeared on his desk. Whenever he looked at them it filled him with warmth and comfort. Whenever he was talking to Hyungwon through the sketchbook it made him feel at ease and he seemed no longer an ugly green kobold-like creature but something else, something more beautiful and ethereal. 

 

Of course, with Shownu came lots of other people. Journalists, his agent, friends, stepping in and out of the atelier to look at his work, to talk to him about new projects, commissions and previously it would have driven Minhyuk mad. Now he simply felt nothing at all. There was another hole inside of him, that lacked the existence of jealousy and greed. He ignored them and worked on his prototype like he was in trance, far away from them, far away from their judgment and expectations. Still, he felt their eyes on him, giving him that  _ look _ . A pitying look, like they would know that Minhyuk was wasting his time, again, unsuccessfully trying to be like Shownu or his brother, again. Minhyuk simply was not them and he did not try to be like them anymore.

 

He had wished for them all to disappear because he wanted to talk to Hyungwon since he was the only one that knew what was going on with him, what was happening to him. Minhyuk was used to being left alone, being overseen, the number two at everything he ever did and there was no intention left for him to change that. No competition, no comparison with others, just him and his beautiful doll. 

 

Minhyuk was captured inside a storm of the unknown. A constant amplitude of ups and downs between terror, fear and peace and ease and the love for his work. He didn’t know that the path he was walking down wasn’t only cost him but also Hyungwon who was protecting him instead of torturing him as the devil had wanted him to. He didn’t know that Hyungwon had to face Kihyun’s rage from time to time, his physical body tortured, his mind ripped into shreds by the fires of hell that made the scenery of active volcanoes on Jupiter’s moon Io appear like a walk in the park.

 

And still, Hyungwon was with him, endured the pain for Minhyuk without fighting back because he had seen something inside of him that neither the devil nor Minhyuk himself was aware of yet. Additional to all this, a pain had started to spread inside of Minhuyk’s body, the first signs of his ongoing contract with Kihyun. For now, it was mostly coughing, a pain inside his chest, a knot around his heart that was pulling tighter and tighter with every step he was making forward. 

 

It was a pain in his body Hyungwon couldn’t take away from him. His soul had started to flourish like the most beautiful rose the demon had ever seen. It still was limited to the time Minhyuk was working on the doll, but witnessing the process was so fascinating, different from everything Hyungwon had ever seen in his entire existence. He didn’t want to waste it and he didn’t want to share it with anyone else. Why would he, Hyungwon was a selfish demon after all.

 

Although he couldn't protect Minhyuk's body from the pain of his decay he stood by his word showing Minhyuk the things he desired to see before they were gone and meaningless forever. The bond, the fine red thread, that had formed between them was precious and Hyungwon knew it was rare and with time the inevitable knowledge of Minhyuk's soul awaiting only misery and torture became nearly unbearable even for an apparent heartless torturer like him.

 

"I gave it some thought," Minhyuk had said a few days after Hyungwon had asked him about his desires. Shownu had yet arrived at the atelier so Hyungwon and Minhyuk had been still alone. The demon had already waited for him to tell him about it but he knew out of the experience that humans needed time to consider their options. The devil had cut that valuable time short for Minhyuk but Hyungwon tried to give him as much as possible.

 

His hands had skillfully crafted the head of the doll with precision, eyeing the piece from every angle, wetting the clay again to reshape it with his tools. The way Minhyuk blindly grabbed the tools he needed was impressive and watching him crave the hollows for the eyes, reproducing Hyungwon's full lips with the clay felt for the demon, like Minhyuk would stand right in front of him, touching every single line and shape of him in awe. 

 

"Maybe you think it's stupid but I want to walk through the pure moonlight at night, in a field of night flowers. You rarely can see the moon clearly in the city and I want to see the sun getting swallowed by the ocean leaving behind this green beam of light." It had sounded dreamy and there had been a smile on Minhyuk's lips, a sad one that looked like saying goodbye. And Hyungwon had felt that this wasn’t everything he desired, that there was more. Words Minhyuk left unspoken, words Hyungwon could have forced him to speak out loud but were left behind under the cover of silence.

 

_ "You don't desire love and physical interaction?" _ Hyungwon had asked, though most humans he had seen had wished to be with someone. 

 

Minhyuk had gone quiet for a while, shaping the lines of Hyungwon's lips carefully out of the clay, deep in concentration, without blinking. Carefully he shaped the corner of his mouth with a fine spatula that looked like a dentist tool.

 

“How honest would this love be if it was enforced by a spell?” Minhyuk had asked. “Love needs time, needs to grow before it can flourish,” he had looked up and over the bright peach blossoms and even though he had smiled he looked lost in Hyungwon’s eyes. “Before it feels like home.”

 

Hyungwon’s eyes had wandered over to the blossoms, wondering what Minhyuk was seeing in them. He had to resist the urge to reach out for him, to touch his cheeks with his hands and to let him feel it, feel the warmth and the comfort he desired. It left him conflicted every single time. He had been sent here to torture Minhyuk, to play his mind games on him, but instead, he was protecting him, keeping him from harm as much as possible. The longer he was staying with him the harder it became to ignore this new burning sensation inside his chest. It wasn’t physical attraction nor a blind desire of the flesh. It felt like he had found a missing piece he hadn’t been aware of had been missing.

 

He had looked down on the mark of the black rose on his wrist, hoping for answers he wouldn’t get. They were bonded in a way Hyungwon couldn’t explain and it was merely impossible to escape the feeling that was knocking on his door, tugging on his heart he wasn’t even aware he had. Demons could fall in love, he had seen so many of them longing for humans in unexplainable fondness but he had yet never felt it, experienced it by himself. It was new, it was precious and so fragile like glass but it was growing under the most unfavorable conditions, like a rose in the desert. Not storms, nor the fires of hell or death could destroy it and it was longing for safety. The feeling that had risen inside his chest was strong, solid and whenever he became aware of Minhyuk’s decay it hurt him, like the rose tendrils covered with thick thorns growing through the halls of Minhyuk’s soul. 

 

_ “How does it feel to be at home? To be in love.” _

 

At first, Hyungwon had wanted to reach out for Minhyuk’s hand, hovering his fingers over his soft warm skin, instead, he had placed them on the sketchbook to make the words appear on the paper. He had also opened his lips, had nearly spoken the words out loud for Minhyuk to hear them, but he had remained a faceless, invisible being in the parallel world of shadows and selfish demonic creatures. And it had also been the first time for Hyungwon, that it had felt so wrong to hide, to keep this wall between them when all he wanted was to give up the role of an observer and step into Minhyuk’s life as a protector, offering a safe place he deserved.

 

Minhyuk had slowly placed the head of the doll and the tool he had been holding in his other hand down after he had read the words on the page of the sketchbook. For a while he had appeared to be in deep thought, his eyebrows slightly frowned as he supported his chin on his hand. There were still remains of the clay sticking on his slender fingers but Minhyuk hadn’t seemed to notice.

 

“It’s cozy and warm and gives you a feeling to belong and be loved no matter what. When the world is turning upside down and misery seems to be your only companion, a place like home prevents you from breaking into pieces. You start to center, feel safe and accept the storm that is tumulting outside your windows, trying to destroy the solid walls of your home. And loving someone is like standing together in the eye of the storm, knowing that it is going to be okay as long as this person is right next to you, holding your hand and keeping you close no matter what.”

 

A sad smile had been painted on Minhyuk’s lips.

 

“You just ache to smile looking at this person. You just can’t help it even though everything is falling apart but seeing the eyes of your beloved lighting up when they look at you makes you realize that you are complete, that you found something precious you don’t even know you were looking for. It makes you want to stop the time from running, makes you want to stop and just exist to see this pure loving smile that leaves you breathless. And all you want to do is to exist just for this feeling.” 

 

If the connection between two beings could build a place like home, was it possible that the bond between Minhyuk and Hyungwon could create such a place as well? This feeling of home and safety was not visible, yet it was there, hovering over the both of them like opaque clouds of fog cutting them off from the rest of the world.

 

“So, even if it was possible to cast a spell to fall in love, it wouldn’t be real and therefore I’d think it’s okay to die without having loved." 

 

The way Minhyuk had looked down on the face of the doll was nearly unbearable and could be described as so much more painful than any torture Hyungwon had ever felt before. It had been like he was watching a precious rose losing all its velvety petals, sinking down and decompose piece by piece and there was nothing he could have done to bring them back. Making this precious rose whole again. Minhyuk's body was withering to death as if the unexplainable process inside his soul was taking all his energy and Hyungwon couldn’t do anything and for the first time in his long existence, he hated it just being a passive observer.

 

Hyungwon wanted to know what was going on, wanted to understand this unknown feeling inside, that wanted him to hold Minhyuk in his arms and see his eyes so bright and full of passion and hope. For a while, Hyungwon hadn't answered as he had felt the mark of the rose pulsing on his wrist like it had its own unique heartbeat, like it was alive. There was chaos inside of him, his demonic nature fighting against those new feelings that were blossoming inside of him like the rose on his wrist. Was it possible that Minhyuk had the ability to change him? Inflaming a desire inside of him he had never felt before? Seeing the young artist suffer hurt but witnessing his smile and feeling that warm glow of his soul when he was passionately working could be described as warm and cozy. 

 

Finding a home in someone you love had never been worth to even think about for the demon but the more time he spent with Minhyuk the more he wanted to know, to learn about these foreign feelings. If Hyungwon tried to recall a situation where Kihyun had talked about love then it was mostly in the context of being ridiculous. That a feeling like love was only for the weak and only the power of hate could rule over the world simply because humans were all selfish and driven by sin, not the impulse of brotherly love. Hyungwon was different from Kihyun yet they were one. He was Kihyun’s pride that had lead him to rebellion against God but Hyungwon wasn’t just a figurine, wasn’t following orders blindly. No, he was marching right into his own rebellion against his creator but unlike him not purely driven by selfishness but the longing for the unknown feeling called  _ love _ that could only be found in a place called  _ home _ .

 

 

_ I want you to shine. _

 

 

\---

 

It was late at night another few weeks later, when Minhyuk had completely finished the jolts, face, and limbs for the prototype of the doll, running his long fingers over the fragile features of the dolls face unaware that Hyungwon was standing right behind him observing Minhyuk’s work so far. He was, without any doubt, talented and one could only imagine the overwhelming artistry of the finished porcelain doll that was going to follow. If the world hadn’t played Minhyuk so dirty and would have treated him more kindly and with open hearts, he surely would have found his happiness in it. 

 

Hyungwon wanted to congratulate him, telling Minhyuk that he did well but as always he held back words of praise, its taste so foreign in his mouth when he was normally seeking them from others. He wasn’t getting tired of the time they were spending together and he wasn’t getting tired of watching him. By now, Hyungwon knew a few of Minhyuk’s habits and could count the stars shining bright in his eyes when he was working fiercely and with a burning passion, blending out the world around him. He witnessed the way other people looked at Minhyuk like he was just a hopeless artist that was still believing, fighting on a lost cause.

 

Nobody could see him for the unique flower he was and Hyungwon wanted to show him a place that would lift the burden off his back - at least for a little while. He watched Minhyuk carefully wrapping the doll up in a plastic sheet, stretching out his sore limbs, probably ready to get some rest before he had to continue with dragging the threads, making sure the jolts would perfectly fit. There was still a lot of work to do but Hyungwon thought it was enough for now - and he wanted to keep his word to show Minhyuk the things he desired.

 

_ “I want to show you something.” _

 

Hyungwon watched his own words written on the sketchbook that was pitched open on the desk, always with Minhyuk like a loyal companion. The young artist looked a slightly confused on the words while rubbing his left eye sluggish and sleepy with the back of his hand.

 

“What is it?” Minhyuk asked, his voice sounded a bit hoarse and worn-out but he composed himself on the chair and straightened his back, curious for the answer. 

 

_ “Close your eyes.”  _

 

“Alright.”

 

Minhyuk did without hesitation and Hyungwon was anew taken aback by the amount of trust he was meeting him with. He was, after all, just invisible to him, not even a voice filled with warmth but simple words written in black letters on a piece of paper. Black letters were written by a demon, a servant of hell, still, Minhyuk trusted him. Hyungwon lifted his hands and slowly traced them over Minhyuk’s arms, over his shoulders, feeling the tense muscles underneath, wandering further up his long delicate neck before softly placing them over his closed eyes. He wasn’t really touching him but felt the warmth of his body under his fingers, resisting the urge to really touch him and letting him feel it - letting Minhyuk feel that he was with him. 

 

In the blink of an eye, the atelier was left abandoned and the smell of paint, wood, and thinner were exchanged for the clear, light air of the night and the rich scent of flowers. A soft breeze was blowing through the silence of the night, delicately touching Minhyuk’s bare skin on his arms. Then the hovering weight over his eyes lifted, he found himself standing on a field of night flowers yawing for the midnight sun. No matter where Minhyuk was looking, he was surrounded by the  _ Queen of the Night  _ \- Jasmine. Its rich scent was nearly overwhelming, intoxicating and different from the pollution in the city. The moon stood high in the cloudless night sky, accompanied by thousands, millions of stars, that tinted the whole scenery in visionary shades of blues making Minhyuk feel like he had left earth and had entered an alternative universe of beauty.

 

Hyungwon watched the glittering stars and the brightness of the Jasmin reflecting in Minhyuk’s eyes. He was walking through the field in awe, his feet guiding him forward without following a certain path, his fingers softly brushing over the flowers, feeling the velvety surface of the petals underneath his fingertips. If there had ever been a moment of real freedom for Minhyuk, far away from the cruelty and the rules of the universe that was dragging him down on his knees, this was probably it. Clearly, Minhyuk wasn’t longing for possessions but for peace in his heart and walking through the moonlight with a smile made him shine like the brightest light of all. The demon walked silently beside him, had to admit that a place like this was worth more than lust and pleasure or money and status. 

 

The sky stretched over them like an ocean of stars and for a moment Hyungwon let it sink in, absorbed the cold light of the moon that fell onto them, but leaving only one shadow on the ground. Since Minhyuk hadn’t the sketchbook with him, Hyungwon couldn’t speak to him. No, it wasn’t true, he could have spoken to him if he had wanted to, in silent whispers like the time he had been calling for him in his vision. He could have spoken to him, allowing him to hear the full intensity of his voice and the urge to do so was growing inside of Hyungwon with every second he spent with Minhyuk. Sure, he was speaking to his soul but there was so much more to it.

 

It didn’t feel wrong for Hyungwon to protect him like he was acting against his demonic nature. No, quite the contrary. It was like it was exactly the right place for him, beside Minhyuk. On the other hand, staying beside him, feeling the time slipping away unstoppable like fine grains of sand in an hourglass, made him feel helpless, made him feel like every little grain of sand took Minhyuk further away from him and being just black letters on a piece of paper wasn’t enough anymore. 

 

He felt the mark of the rose itching on the skin of his wrist like there was actually a tendril of roses, covered with thick thorns creeping up his arm but when he looked down in a sudden panic the itching was gone and quietly resting was the black rose on his wrist. As he lifted his gaze again, Hyungwon became aware that Minhyuk had stopped walking, standing a few steps ahead of him looking in his direction like he could actually see him. Hyungwon’s blue eyes went wide and time stopped instantly as he fully realized that Minhyuk’s usually light-brown eyes stared back at him like two blood-red rubies. So dangerous and the most beautiful and precious of all. 

 

 

_ This can’t be. _

 

 

In disbelief he stepped closer, his legs seemed to move on its own like he was attached to an invisible thread that pulled him closer to Minhyuk. His intriguing red eyes followed him, looking deep into his ocean-blue ones as they finally stood right in front of each other. They faced each other not like strangers, not like different kinds of species, but soulmates, bonded by destiny. Hyungwon felt the air was getting thinner and the rich scent of the Jasmine surrounding them was replaced by something else - the scent of bright red roses. With every second Minhyuk was staring into his eyes, his gaze and posture strong and invincible, Hyungwon felt like he was seduced into a state of trance, unable to resist.

 

 

_ It’s impossible. You can’t be here. _

 

 

Minhyuk’s soul was glowing, the surface so clean like black ice, a state it was normally just showing while Minhyuk was working on the doll inside the atelier. Hyungwon had never seen it glowing like that on any other occasion nor had Minhyuk’s body shown any signs that he might not be human. And then he felt them, Minhyuk’s soft warm hands cupping his cheeks, caressing his thumbs over them, only increasing the feeling of belonging to him, being connected to him. He smiled softly, like he was looking into the eyes of his beloved, wasn’t looking at a stranger, at a demon, something Hyungwon had never seen or felt before. This man in front of him wasn’t in awe for his beauty, wasn’t looking away feeling lesser than Hyungwon, nor were there any signs that he wanted to satisfy any lower physical needs by facing Hyungwon, a prince,  _ Pride _ .

 

There was simply no chance for Minhyuk to touch him, to see him but he did, right at this moment and he was so different from the man he had watched over the past few weeks. Nevertheless, Hyungwon thought he already knew him, had seen him before, had been waiting for him, even if it was impossible but when the realization finally hit him Minhyuk leaned closer so their foreheads touched. 

 

“My love.” he whispered the words, their lips only millimeters away, his hot breath a harbinger on Hyungwon’s lips, raising the desire to bring them together, to kiss him passionately under the moonlight. His words sounded so familiar, sweet and thick like honey while the cold breeze of the night swirled the white Jasmine petals around them, like a shield, protecting them from any curious eye in the cosmos daring to spy on them. Shielding them from the devil himself as their meeting was bending the laws of the universe.

 

Hyungwon rested his hands on Minhyuk’s slim hips, holding him close, the moment too precious to let it slide. A mere breath of a sigh left his full lips hadn’t he realized how much he had wanted to touch him, to feel his presence. To exist with him on the same side of the invisible wall that was keeping them apart. It was like a meeting of fire and ice, like hot molten lava trickling into the ocean. Two elements so different, yet so depending on one another, simply existing, holding each other yet being too far away to become one. 

 

They were figures, puppets in some greater plan and for quite some time Minhyuk wasn’t fighting his battles alone anymore, Hyungwon was fighting them with him. But the truth was, he couldn’t save him, no matter how hard he tried, there was no way he could protect this flourishing priceless rose. And it made him feel the real pain of the heart. Minhyuk had been right as he had said that seeing your beloved made you want to smile even if the world around was falling apart. Nothing else mattered anymore for the demon when he placed one hand on Minhyuk’s warm cheek, while the arms of the latter naturally locking themselves around his neck. There was a rare smile on Hyungwon’s lips as he leaned down slowly so their lips could finally meet for a tender kiss.

 

For a brief moment, time had stopped, had lost its meaning. The feeling of their lips brushing each other so softly and nearly painfully slow was like floating in the air, getting carried away by the wind surrounded by the petals of the white Jasmine. Hyungwon felt the kiss with every fiber of his being, spreading an unknown desire through his veins. It was the wordless silence of their kiss telling all the secrets they couldn’t speak out loud. Love, so raw, so bare and exposed but treasured. He had never known that a kiss so innocent and tender could be so electrifying and intimate at the same time. Nothing made sense and at the same time, it was the only reason worth existing for. Two ethereal and precious gemstones sparkling in the moonlight.  

 

Minhyuk was the first to break their kiss, too soon for Hyungwon, who never wanted to let him go again, wanted to hold him close, kiss him deeper and more passionate to treasure this very moment, not knowing when it would come again. He never was used to giving but to get what he wanted, everything at any time but he couldn’t keep and hold his love in his arms. Forever.

 

“Don’t go.”

 

“Our time hasn’t come yet, my love.” Minhyuk said softly, still with a smile on his sweet pink lips but Hyungwon could see the heartbreak in his eyes, could hear the bitterness in his voice and he hated it. 

 

"Why is all of this happening it doesn't make sense." Hyungwon traced his fingers carefully over Minhyuk's warm cheek, caressing over his jawline with his thumb. He was seeing Minhyuk's face every day yet Hyungwon couldn't look at him enough, absorbing the sculptural features that made him look less like a human being than more like a painting. Minhyuk's soul was mesmerizing in Hyungwon's eyes.

 

"It will all make sense in the end, my love. You're taking such good care of me."

 

"I can't lose you." Hyungwon’s words remained a heavyweight on the tip of his tongue as Minhyuk wouldn't let him speak further, though there were so many things he needed to understand, needed to say and ask.

 

"I can't wait to see the sun setting over the ocean with you." Minhyuk whispered softly, letting their noses brush for a brief second, silently pleading for another kiss, pleading for a little more. "You'll know when the time is right and until then," He nudged his cheek more in Hyungwon's palm. "look after my body but not for me."

 

He thought that his world was breaking with these words. Minhyuk's soft fingertips caressed over his full lips, his eyes hanging on them for a while longer than needed like he was hoping for more, for having just a little more time with him. But eventually, he let go of him and took a few steps back.

 

"No, wait-...!" Hyungwon reached his hand out for him but just in the blink of an eye everything was lost and their shared moment became only a whisper in the wind. His words unheard ricocheted on the invisible wall that kept them from each other again. The glow of Minhyuk's soul was gone as well as the ruby-red gems in his eyes. The breeze carried away the scent of the roses, the white petals of Jasmine following wherever their path would lead them, dancing like fairies in the shimmering light of the moon. 

 

Minhyuk was peacefully looking up into the sky unaware what had happened, unaware that the demon beside him was left in confusion and pain, had faced the only person, whose smile made him feel like he had a heart. What it meant to feel _at_ _home_. Now he was gone, had even told him not to look for him. But how could they be together when they couldn't even be together? 

 

"Thank you for taking me here." Hyungwon heard Minhyuk say as he continued walking through the endless field, embraced by the Queen of the Night, teetering softly in the wind, but his words sounded distant. The demon was left behind, still feeling the warmth of Minhyuk's fingers on his skin, his lips on his own. He hadn't been ready to see him and he was by far not ready to let him go. When Hyungwon looked down on his wrist again, fine black tendrils had appeared on his pale skin, seemed to grow out from both sides of the small black rose, woven around his wrist like a bracelet. An unspoken promise sticking on his skin like a tattoo.  _ Pride _ was his but  _ he _ was unreachable.

 

Minhyuk couldn't have known but Pride had fallen in love with him, more precisely with his soul. He didn’t quite know when it happened but it had never happened to him before. And while Minhyuk had accepted that he was going to die without being truly loved, his soul knew that he was loved by Hyungwon, that they were whole together. Hyungwon had seen the boy inside of Minhyuk’s soul grow over the past weeks and months they had spent together, though it had been the first time that Hyungwon had seen this grown-up version of his soul that night in the field of blooming Jasmine flowers. Still, it remained a mystery to him what was happening to the young artist. What was the purpose of all this growth and their unique connecting when Minhyuk was condemned to die so soon? With every step forward, every new sign of pain in Minhyuk’s body the demon couldn’t take away he became more conscious that time was running out for him, for them.   

 

The poison of love had oozed into his system since the moment Minhyuk had marked him, claimed him as his own. It had felt like the most natural thing to kiss him, to treat him like his beloved, like his own as he had seen him yet it left him even more conflicted to keep on watching over the young artist. Being on the other side, being just black letters on a piece of paper, a faceless observer whose power was useless considering Minhyuk’s deal with the devil. His new feelings had made him foolish enough to try finding a way around the contract, destroying it even that only had earned him much more pain and punishment from his creator. What was the use of being one of the most powerful beings that ever existed when he couldn’t save the one person he loved?

 

Hyungwon was sitting right next to Minhyuk’s sleeping body after the artist had asked him - or rather had asked into the night - if they could go back to the atelier. His blue eyes wandered off to the prototype of the doll waiting on the desk, it was nearly finished and Minhyuk would go on with the next steps making the doll out of porcelain. It was only a matter of weeks, maybe months until everything would be over. Hyungwon couldn’t help but feel angry. There was no joy, no purpose for him anymore to see Minhyuk recreating this perfect image in the form of a doll of him. He didn’t want to see himself when he was losing something far more valuable at the same time.

 

_ “I don’t want to see you suffer. I don’t want you to leave me.”  _ Hyungwon said, realization weighing heavy on his chest as his long fingers softly stroke over Minhyuk’s cheek, made him feel it on purpose, wanted him to know that he was there, wasn’t alone in this toxic environment. Why couldn’t it make a difference that Minhyuk’s soul was so strong, so perfect and lovable yet in the eyes of others so foul and worthless? Why couldn’t it affect the outcome and end all the sorrow, all the tears, and all the unanswered questions? Why didn’t it make a difference at all that Pride, a prince of hell had fallen in love with this precious soul?

 

But it wasn’t only Minhyuk. Everything was changing and Hyungwon was wondering who was making the rules, moving the figurines to their will. At first, it had been Kihyun, manipulating Minhyuk to get him to sign the contract so he could do whatever he wanted with Wonho. Hyungwon had wanted to torture another forsaken soul, Minhyuk’s soul, just to discover that he wasn’t like everyone else. Now he was protecting him, watching this miracle happen inside of him, creating a completely different version of the young artist. The flesh was dying while the soul was growing, burning bright for his eyes only. He could say for sure that he hadn’t seen anything like it before and he was left without any options where to look for a solution. How was he supposed to let Minhyuk’s soul getting tortured in hell?

 

God normally had no power over his bratty son anymore, but Kihyun’s arrogance and pride were proceeding. He was hungry, needed more, needed attention, especially the attention he couldn’t get. Not to mention that he obviously wasn’t getting what he had intended to claim from Wonho either. Hyungwon had been perfectly aware of his plan to suck Wonho’s bright shining soul dry, dimming his light and drag him into the same misery his brother was experiencing. Although, it appeared that this plan wasn’t working out very well. He had seen Kihyun and he had heard the whispers in hell too, that their leader was weak and his wings broken. 

 

So far, Hyungwon hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, but he could feel that Kihyun’s system must have been poisoned, made him weaker and weaker every day. As if the circumstance that Kihyun was so distracted with Wonho like a cat focusing on a shiny sparkling object hadn’t been enough to bring disorder in his kingdom. No, the seed of anxiety was already planted and demons without a strong leader were as uncontrollable as ill-bred children.

 

He wondered what the meaning was behind those two unique brothers and the demons standing by their side. Was it just by chance? By now, Hyungwon wasn’t convinced that all this was just a coincidence anymore. The Devil was getting weaker but refused to let go of the object of his desire, while Pride wouldn’t let go either, although the thing that he had been poisoned with was love. But why had Hyungwon to lose his love and how was he supposed to move on once he was gone? 

 

_ “I would give everything to see your smile for all eternity, to be your home.”  _

 

The words tasted so bitter in his mouth. If love was such a desirable feeling then why did it hurt so much? There was a burning sensation inside his chest, hurting, invisibly bleeding like a gaping wound. Hyungwon had already felt it earlier when Minhyuk’s soul had left him and he had felt the little tugs and stings over time, telling him that his chest wasn’t just dark and hollow. A heart. A hurting, beating heart was growing inside his chest and while the pain was so cruel and merciless, the warmth it radiated was comforting. There was no use in questioning it since every existing order seemed to be out of balance.

 

While the mark on Hyungwon's wrist was constantly changing, the mark behind Minhyuk's ear remained unchanged. A seal of protection. Somehow the demon couldn't help it, so he laid down beside him, wrapping his arms around Minhyuk’s body, holding him close, making sure he was untouchable for the cruelty of the universe. Minhyuk looked so peaceful in his sleep that night, were his dreams often haunted by nightmares, though, not this time.

 

\---

 

When Minhyuk woke up the next day his heart felt warm, lighter than usual, as were the sun rays dancing on his skin. In fact, his whole body felt warm, protected like it had been held in a warm embrace. He had bathed in the moonlight and the white fairies of Jasmine had been dancing in the wind. He had felt the soft breeze on his skin and the flower petals under his fingertips and had breathed in the clear air far away from the pollution of the city. Had it been even real? Minhyuk had never seen a place like this in his life. A world of mythical creatures, a place so calming and different, far away from the world he was living in. Far away from cruelty and possessions. Far away from the shadows haunting his mind whenever he was stepping outside and was confronted with other human beings. 

 

He had seen them stepping into the atelier too when it was a busy day for Shownu. The shadows seemed to stick and hide everywhere and no matter how big his fear, Minhyuk knew that they couldn’t touch him, that nothing was going to happen. Although, there was this blurry shadow sometimes that didn’t make him shiver and he wondered if it was Hyungwon if he was maybe given a chance to actually see this kind demon staying by his side day by day. His eyes were often dry, not only from the long hours staring at the clay or the times when he was crying himself into sleep just to get haunted by nightmares, no, it felt like he was seeing things his human mind couldn’t grasp. If the eyes were windows to one's soul, he was wondering what Hyungwon might see looking into them and what was staring back at him.

 

Minhyuk fixed his eyes on a point at the ceiling, his fingertips brushing over his lips lost in thought. There were these dreams, these hidden desires bottled up in the darkest corner of his being. His mind felt so full, running out of space and the disparity between his on-going life including the making of the doll and his inner desires became difficult to bear. He felt like he was split in half and under all that misery that was covering his sight like a piece of cloth over his eyes was waiting more, a new beginning after the end. 

 

 

_ A kiss, so sweet while we’re sinking down the depths of the ocean. _

 

 

He couldn’t stop thinking about the man with the ocean-blue eyes. There was still this adoration for him, the need to get to know him, the urge to see him standing right in front of him. Yes, Minhyuk was building a doll after the image that had been burned behind his eyelids, though the feeling itself had changed. It felt more like he actually knew him, had seen him before, had felt his touch and his lips on his own - but they were equal. And how right he was.

 

Hyungwon, the demon standing by his side had claimed he wasn’t the man in the picture and Minhyuk wanted to believe him, though, there was a part of him that couldn’t believe that it was true. But why let him build a doll that looked like him while watching Minhyuk do it day in and day out, every day till his last breath? Even if he wanted to he couldn’t stop working on the doll, not only because there was a feeling inside of him that forced him to move on, or because of the contract he had signed with the devil. It was because he wanted to. Minhyuk wanted to see his masterpiece grow and he wanted to look at the finished piece and feel proud about himself, about his work and his great artistry. 

 

After he had gotten up, he left the atelier to go over to the neighbors. There was a small passageway to the adjoining atelier, belonging to a mutual friend of Shownu and Minhyuk. Since he was abroad for an exhibition in Paris and to spend time with his boyfriend, nobody minded him to use the shower over there. His mind was already running full-speed, thinking about the next steps he had to do and the material he had to prepare for making the molds for the actual porcelain doll. Figuring out how to make good molds had been a long, exhausting process just the same as figuring out how to make sculptures and dolls in the first place. It had taken him nearly two to three month the first time to even figure out how it actually worked.

 

Making plaster molds was exceptionally crucial since porcelain was a liquid substance and the plaster was soaking up the moisture while keeping the doll parts hollow. But he loved every step on the way of making a doll and he was thankful for being able to use all of his knowledge and effort to put it into his final masterpiece. A piece that would be left behind. A piece people would remember even if they wouldn’t remember him. 

 

Freshly shaved and dressed, Minhyuk walked back into the atelier and prepared the usual pot of coffee and ate cold leftover pizza for breakfast. He walked back and forth the atelier, making space to place a huge bucket on the ground he had filled to a quarter with water from the sink. A big package of plaster was placed next to it but first, he had to check if all limbs and joints were compatible and functional. He walked over to the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee, stuffing another piece of pizza inside his mouth and sitting down in front of his desk, unwrapping all the body parts of the life-sized doll. Once again, he was checking if all the surfaces were perfectly carved and sanded before stringing all the parts of hardened clay together, what was much more challenging for a doll of this size.

 

Minhyuk wasn’t talking to Hyungwon during the whole process like he would usually do. He would ask if the demon was there, would sometimes just talk to have the feeling that someone was listening, but this morning his eyes were fixed on the doll only. And the only thing Hyungwon could actually do was to watch him silently, although there was no glow in clear sight radiating from Minhyuk’s soul. It was just the way it should have looked all along: Rotten and without a view for redemption. Hyungwon was cut off from his love and he couldn’t help but feel betrayed, left behind even if there was probably a good explanation for all of it. Maybe it wasn’t safe anymore for Minhyuk’s soul to show it’s glory and grace so openly to him now that it had been opened up like the beautiful rose he was. Maybe it was a protective mechanism, making sure that everything that was happening here stayed hidden from the eyes of the devil.

 

Nevertheless, the silence became already oppressive after a short while and Hyungwon was craving to hear Minhyuk’s voice. Not even the sketchbook had been opened for him, offering him a blank page to talk to him and it hurt. It hurt so much. All of this wouldn’t have been a big deal, Hyungwon could have moved everything in his favor but for some eerie reason, he knew that it was probably for the best. The only time Hyungwon heard his voice that morning was when Shownu came into the atelier and greeted him. 

 

After Minhyuk had made sure that everything was in order he removed the stringing once again so all the limbs were individual parts again. The desk was cleared from every unnecessary tools and objects, all but the glass with the bright pink peach blossoms in it, still standing at the corner of the desk. Minhyuk took a huge package of water-based white modeling clay, he had to carry with both of his arms, from the shelf and placed it on the desk. It didn’t look like he had to think about the steps that were going to follow like he was just functioning on autopilot. His hands were moving fluently, unwrapping the clay, shaping it, cutting it into pieces, thick and big enough so he was able to carefully place the first limb in the bed of clay. His hands worked precisely but also very gently as not to damage his work, making sure that the clay was making a tight seal around the limb. For the next step, he was using liquid soap as a release agent, applying it with a brush all over the sculpt and the clay around it, making sure it wasn’t pooling anywhere before he was moving on with preparing the actual molding plaster.

 

With medium-sized wooden shelf boards, Minhyuk was building a box around the clay, securing it with wooden blocks and fixing it with tape so it would stay put for the casting. He had never built a doll in this size but he still was perfectly aware of the next steps and the amount of material that was needed. Minhyuk grabbed a mask to make sure his respiratory tract was secured while he was scattering the right amount of plaster into the water in the bucket by hand before stirring it with his hand as well. Doing it this way prevented the plaster from clotting and gave it the consistency of soft ice cream so he was able to slowly pour the mixture over the sculpt. He gave the form a few tabs to remove any air bubbles that would jeopardize the quality of the mold and moved on preparing the clay for the next limb.   

 

Thanks to the size of the doll, a lot of space and material was needed for Minhyuk to prepare one mold for every single limb of the doll. It was also a process that took a huge amount of time, but at least Minhyuk could prepare mold after mold while waiting for the first ones to dry. After the first layer of plaster had hardened, Minhyuk was opening the wooden box and flipped the mold over so he could remove the clay that was underneath and clean the mold before applying another layer of soap and repeated the whole process so the particular limb was now boxed inside the plaster. When he had finally prepared every mold, almost two weeks had passed. Two weeks Minhyuk hadn’t been talking to Hyungwon at all. Time he had heard his voice only when Minhyuk had been talking to Shownu or Wonho when he had stopped by. 

 

Two weeks and Hyungwon had watched him working as a mechanical doll, silently without a voice, without a single spark of fire inside, without any other purpose but to work on the molds. Minyhuk’s condition had worsened, and the occasional coughing was now often accompanied by blood and cramps in his muscles. If Hyungwon had thought to be in love with Minhyuk and his beautiful soul and just being able to keep watch over him but never being close to him had been unbearable before then watching him working in silence and not seeing him smile once was torture. He couldn’t understand what was happening with him and when he tried to step into his subconsciousness, searching for his soul, he was cast out by rose tendrils covered with unimaginable big and thick thorns, sharper than any blade, impenetrable. A warning that he wasn’t welcome and it made his own growing heart bleeding, even more, longing, even more, screaming out for his beloved.

 

Hyungwon was sitting next to him every day, watching over his body when he had fallen asleep, softly stroking his cheek and sometimes holding him close in his arms. But he could feel no warmth coming from him, from Minhyuk’s heart. He had witnessed so many things over all the uncountable years of his existence but for the first time, he felt the limits to his patience. He couldn’t just accept that Minhyuk went all radio silent with him, telling him he would know when the time was right for them to meet again. 

 

_ “Everything feels cold without your smile. Don’t let me freeze.” _ Hyungwon whispered softly against the nape of Minhyuk’s neck that night, his full lips hovering over his skin like a ghost. 

 

Unnoticed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end is getting closer. 
> 
> Thank you for all your kudos and lovely comments! Feel free to follow and scream at me here:
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/crimson_chou)
> 
> [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/shadyhon)


End file.
